Three Musketeers
by OwlTheWise
Summary: A spin on the old tale, where three young women become connected in ways not foretold. When Theodosia fell to Brigton, there was change in the air. Change that brought a Fence with a past, an assassin with morals, and a courtesan with standards together for adventure to last into the new age. Friendship that can last through conspiring Lords, and pasts catching up to them, are life
1. Chapter 1

_The Assassin and the Courtesan_

The halls had candles in sconces lining the way, creating pockets of soft glow and patches of shadow down the stretch cream colored walls. This mood lighting made it very easy for someone to slither undetected, while the oriental wallpaper was accented by the lighting choice. It was _very eastern and reminiscent of Theodosian style for a Brigton bigwig's home_ , thought the assassin as they slid through the shadows. Unnoticed _. The Remington household was almost making this too easy to enjoy._ Sighing and continuing to navigate to the back quadrant of the exquisite home, the passed busts of ancient figures and various art pieces showcased on their route to their high profile target. A servant then entered the hall from the main hallway that cut through this particular manor. The leather gloves on the assassin's nimble hands curled around their trusty blackjack, its flat head itching to strike. Thinking better of it, the assassin turned and melted further into the shadows, and let the bumbling servant pass without any trouble. _It would not do to get too overzealous with violence_. Snorting, the assassin resumed the prowl for their target, whose door happened to be at the end of this seemingly never ending corridor.

Treading lightly on the dark wood floors, a gloved hand reached for the ornate handle, and silently slipped inside the darkened room. Hugging the wall closest to the door, they observed the scene in front of them. Two rather large windows faced the western side of the room with rich navy drapes hanging from golden curtain rods. French doors trimmed in dark wood lead out to a patio, and overlooked the massive gardens of the estate. Baubles and trinkets of a rich playboy were strewn throughout the room, a set of polished armor on one side, a case of untouched first edition classics on the other. _Typical._ Asingle candle flickered beside a massive canopy bed, centered along the wall opposite of the doorway, which was currently occupied by the particularly handsome target.

Dominic Remington laid back casually on his bed waiting for his beauty that persisted that she needed to freshen up before they had their fun. Caught up in visions of his courtesan, he was blissfully unaware of the tri-tipped sai that raced toward him. He died with a content look on his face as the blade slashed through his left carotid artery, never knowing what happened. Clean and neat. Just how the assassin liked kills. Dancing toward the body, they removed a glove and lowered the hood attached to their long cape. Starting a soft prayer for the departed, they made to touch the successful hit, when a soft ruffle of fabric caused them to pull back. Cursing Kami for getting her into this, she turned towards the ensuite and directed their killer glare at the recently freshened up woman, who pouted and glared right back.

"Now was that really necessary? I mean could you not have discussed things before bloodying up the sheets? The maids will have an absolute fit when they see this mess."

Raising a brow, the assassin looked at the well dressed female who had decided to crash the previously perfect kill. Recognizing the famous courtesan known as Brielle Greysilk, the assassin was impressed. Not only did the doll dare to sass back at her, Ms. Greysilk was wearing a full traditional pale pink kimono, inside a mighty Brigton family's home. She either lacked common social graces, or rather the doll realized this taboo and confronted it in a cultural showdown. _Delightful. A doll who can keep up with the real world. Such a rare beauty, too bad time is short._

Slipping a sebon from her long sleeves into her waiting palm, she released an exasperated sigh. _Too much violence_. _Makes me look like a novice caught with their pants down._ The silken woman merely looked on with amusement as the assassin began to get closer.

"Come now, there's no need for that honey," she purred. She adjusted the flowers placed in her long fawn locks, and looked back to the sulking figure. Blue eyes met a swirl of hazel. "I really did not see a thing."

Again, a sigh slipped through, and the assassin flipped their hood back over her face and tugged on her glove. _The game is still upon us, how will you play painted lady?_ The assassin reigned in a smirk as she stalked toward the famous Doll of the Brigton Court. Eyebrows crushed together as the woman's face contorted into a confuse frown, and the assassin wasn't quite sure why. Raising their hand, and without turning around, the sebon flew through the air. Snuffing out the candle - the only source of light in the darkened room. The last thing that the doll saw before there wwas no longer light was the figure of the omoshiroi woman who has single handedly killed Dominic Remington. The assassin disapeared behind the woman, and struck out hard with the black jack. The little leather thing really did enjoy cracking a few skulls.

Laughing quietly to no one, and finishing what she had started, the assassin let herself out by slipping through one of the grand windows, landing nimbly on the ground. _The Putaro and the draining body, a book should be written of this night_.

()()()

"Good lord my head hurts, what did Mic pour me last night?" I thought as a vicious ache raced through my skull. Not bothering to open my eyes, I stretched but stiffened suddenly. For some reason the words 'last night' sent a chill down my spine, and not the good kind that curls toes. In fact, thinking more about chills, my back did feel a bit damp, my clothing from last night sticking to my spine. _Very unusual since I never_... _oh how revolting!_ Not only did dampness seep through on my back, but stickiness as well. "Nanda Mic, what were we up to last night..." My voice froze as I looked at the scene next to me. Dominic Remington, the heir to the Remington Railway, lay pale and handsome as ever, but drained of his blood. Dead, he laid next to me in a mockery of a night written about a fairytale.

My scream could have awoken the dead, but thankfully just two maids came rushing in. Looking at what lay before them, they were quick to jump into action, Brigton's Captain of the Guard was called, and I was brought into the drawing room directly off Dominic's bedroom, next to his bathroom, while a doctor assessed the rather large goose egg that blessed my forehead. As he examined me while I lounged on one of the vintage couches, he assured me that given a few days the swelling would go down, and that the headache wracking my brain would cease with rest and some of the herbs he had given me. His diagnosis given, he packed up his belongings and turned to exit the oval sitting room. As the older gentleman left, the younger Captain of the Guard, Captain Uricha entered.

Ah, on to the part of the morning I was really dreading. A _conversation_ with the stoic sheriff himself. More like an interrogation about what was afoot last night, and the careful man was not known for skipping over details. _This could last awhile._ What a wonderful cure for the deep ache inside my brain.

"Ms. Greysilk."

"Captain _Er-ree-cha_ "

"I trust that you are feeling up to discussing what happened last night," he said, annoyed at my over exaggeration of his family name, while pulling out his trusty pad and pencil.

I gave a little pout. "And if I was not..." his blank stare bore into mine, "then I guess we would still find ourselves stretched out in a Remington parlor discussing things," I continued. "Perhaps I should call for some tea?"

"What transpired between you and Mr. Remington last night?" Captain Uricha responded, changing subjects. Inwardly I let my eyes roll. All business with this stick in the mud. Too bad he was much smarter than the average sticks I shared company with, though I could not help but rile him just a bit further.

"Before or after bedroom time?" I asked sweetly. "Because I am sure that a man of your intelligence is quite aware of how a typical night is spent between a client and I, Captain, considering how often your brother receives my company at your household."

The young captain bristled. His dark mane of a pony tail shifted back over his shoulder, and gave me the notorious Uricha glare. _Too bad I'm immune to such things pretty boy_ , I thought impishly.

"Ms. Greysilk I'm sure you're aware that many of Brigton's wealthiest citizens are beginning to introduce more caution into their lifestyle, and I am sure that my brother could be convinced of the same thing, especially if your services are found to be associated with those of the Hand."

I tilted my head in the picture of confusion, with even a hand being brought to my lips, though I understood his underlying threat. I would have to be careful of what I revealed to him, or I would no longer be playing in my game.

Picking at a wrinkle in my blush kimono, I played my first move.

"Were you always this much of a delight Captain? If so I fear that I may have selected the wrong Uricha brother to pursue." His blank stare ensued, and I gave him a perfectly executed sigh of defeat. Seemingly tired of beating around the bush and playing a game with words, I finally released details he was demanding. "Mic, I mean Mr. Remington Junior," I corrected myself blushingly, "escorted me up to his bedroom once his father's cocktail party was slowing down last night. He promised me his arm for the upcoming Rose Ball, a rather difficult one to get invited to even in my occupation, so I agreed and we made a night of it. Of course, we left only once the party had started to slow, we would not want to cause a scene," I tittered off to the man. "Retiring up to his room, I left him laying on the bed while I retreated to the ensuite to freshen up a bit, and when I returned there was something hovering over his side of the bed."

The captain took but a moment to dissect my words.

"Some _thing_ or some _one_ Ms. Greysilk?"

Damn him. I did not really want to disclose any information about the woman I had met last night, nor did I want to spend the rest of my working career inside a cell with only the stoic sheriff to keep me company.

Choosing my words carefully I replied,

"I am not sure I would call that wraith of a figure a someone. Their cloak was dingy and they had the worst sense of fashion I have ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon, although I did not get the chance to mention such things to them before the scoundrel flew and attacked me! This bump will take weeks to heal, and I have a Tanarus ball to attend in three days! How will I ever explain my poor state to handsome William?" I added with a bit of whine.

The captain let out his own sigh at my chatterings, and he folded up his notebook.

"I have heard enough, Ms. Greysilk. Your statement will be taken into account with this investigation. I would recommend that you lay low and recuperate for a few days, and invest in some form of self defense, as it seems the Hand is here to stay and appears to be targeting similar clientele to yours." _How kind Mr. stick-up-your-shiri sheriff. Too bad I have pledged my services to your little brother, we have something going for us with this game we're playing,_ I thought while letting my head droop back on one of the pillows behind it.

I did not see Captain Uricha's gaze give me a once over, his head tilted just a bit, or his black eyes turn into slits, but I did hear his soft steps on the rug as he approached.

With his quiet tread, I could not help but be reminded of the way the assassin had stalked towards me previously. These two were from the same toraburu stone...how troublesome. He sat down by where my waist was and deftly reached out for one of my hands. A flash of a copper wrist adornment flashed underneath his dark jacket and I silently sucked in a gasp. My eyes widened at this and he smirked, showcasing his beautifully sculpted cheekbones. Leaning down toward my ear, his breath trailed beneath my shawl.

"I am letting you go for now, but know if I find out you are associated with the Hand that is terrorizing _my_ city, our next debriefing will not be as friendly."

With the threat clearly given, he stood and straightened his uniform's jacket, and left the room without a backwards glance.

Troublesome indeed.

()()()

Two days later the bump on my noggin did not look any better, maybe even perhaps worse. I tried all the tricks in my courtesan handbook to cover the blasted welt, but my brown locks and powder pigments could only do so much to combat against the purple beast. Resigning to the fact that my current state of beauty was not going to be as flawless as usual for the Tanarus Ball the next evening, I decided to head out and find something that would at least make it seem like I had tried to be as porcelain pretty as the rest of the dolls attending. I jumped in my flats shower for a quick freshening up, dressed in a casual swath ensemble of printed and scarved harem pants with a loose midriff baring top. Drawing one of my typical shawls around my shoulders and tying it in place, I headed out to my favorite place to appease my materialistic tendencies. Off to my beloved Darlings shop.

XXXXX

The front door opened, and the scent of fresh jasmine and apple floated in, and the shop keeper managing the front smiled. _Perfect timing as usual my friend._ Shooing the last customer left in the trinket shop from the register, she headed out to the floor to greet one of her biggest patrons. Taking in the appearance of her dear friend, she was not shocked to have not seen the lovely courtesan out and about in the underground slums. The shiner that was graced upon her forehead was massive indeed. Feeling her friends curious eyes evaluating her state, the woman placed her bangled hands on her hips and jumped into conversation.

"Well, I see that my presence still manages to render even the most competent people speechless, however I wish that you would have the decency to not smile you uncaring wench."

Laughing slightly, the clerk could not contain, "I only think of what William Tanarus will think, his lovely painted lady all bruised, and the perpetrator still at large. He might decide that you would be safer inside the Tanarus compound and under his protection."

"As if I would let that beefy man cake have complete control over me, what are you thinking Rebecca darling," her friend huffed.

Still laughing Rebecca led her friend over to the back side of the store, away from the front windows. Turning to a bookcase filled with classics from long ago, they both appeared to study titles on the shelves. Finding the well-used copy of the Three Musketeers, she tilted the book onto its spine slightly. Latches could then be heard as the case itself detached from the wall, and both women descended through the doorway. One dressed like the shadows she reveled in, with her tunic and leggings, the other like a busy bazaar, in an array of colorful swatches.

The woman in black signaled to the young Theodosian boy, no older than 14, sitting on the stool inside the narrow hallway, and he got up from the stool he had previously been sitting on.

"Afternoon Ms. Rebecca, and _Konichiwa_ Brielle-sama!" the youngster greeted them as they passed the landing.

"Konichiwa Hiro," Brielle replied, while Rebecca nodded in acknowledgement. Seeing what was needed from him he rushed up the steps to manage the store for Rebecca.

"I shall see that no customer leaves unsatisfied Ms. Rebecca! And I shall see to their every needs, _annnnnnnd_ make sure profit is acquired!" Hiro rapidly spewed on his trek up the flight of stairs, managing to trip not once or twice, but at least three times.

"Mo, Bex, you sure that boy can handle your customers?" Brielle asked.

Rebecca turned and gave the doll a knowing smile.

"Oh please, with his dimples and that over-eager-here-to-please-you personality he'll have the ladies eating out of his palm." answered Rebecca. Continuing to walk side by side down another narrow stairway past the landing they were previously on, they made it down to yet another door. Rebecca laughed to herself, "That boy makes me more money in an afternoon than I do in two days."

Pondering her friends words, Brielle gave a small hmm.

"Must be a gift."

"Must be," Rebecca agreed while placing her calloused hands in a particular order on metal knobs that jutted out from the worn wood, the door lit up and allowed them through to the true gem hidden under the trinket shop.

Breathing in the fine scent of new and old wears, both women had satisfied smiles on their faces.

"Now that we're somewhere more secluded I'm sure you want all the juicy details," Brielle inquired to her friend while gesturing to her bump. Rebecca just waited, rather patiently for Brielle to continue her tirade. "You're like a curious cat, you know that. Always slinking into information and storing it in that brain of yours."

"They don't call me the Procurer of the underground for nothing Brielle," Rebecca's feline face curling into a smirk. "I enjoy knowing bits and pieces from patrons, and understanding what is happening around this city is useful and good for business."

"It's also a good way for you to get into trouble," Brielle replied, her tone dropping into a concerned melody.

Rebecca turned her face away from Brielle's, showing off her half shaved head and neck tattoo that graced her left side. The courtesan had always had a soft spot for the secretive fence, except the only information that she traded was gossip, or news buzzing through the District families at the time. It was never personal, so while Brielle felt close to the _Procurer of the underground_ , she could not help the mysterious woman through problems she had no idea about.

While meandering further into the underground store Rebecca ran under the nose of the watchful City Guard, both women adopted far away glances, reminiscing on times that were troubling indeed. Brielle's shoulders shifted uneasily, like spiders were crawling under her shawl, and Rebecca touched the diagonal scar marring her left eyebrow. The mood turned darker than the dimly lit basement. Never knowing where to begin with the fence and these sorts of moods Brielle returned to what she did best. Shopping. Picking up a beautiful jade necklace that would be a stunning accompaniment to the deep urchin dress she would be wearing to the Tanarus Ball, she sighed and said, "But if being in the know allows you access to such pieces I am not going to nag too much. Especially since I get the good patron discount."

Snorting, Rebecca looked into her friends blue eyes and still saw the concern that she had just tried to cover up. Knowing Brielle did not let many people past the painted side of her, and into the side of actually caring, she felt touched. _I worry for you too my doll friend, so please do not hate me for what I am going to ask of you._

Going with her friends lighter topic, the fence merely shrugged and replied, "Even with two Tanarus Ball's pay, you would not be able to cover a quarter of what that piece costs, so unless you finally devote yourself to one of these rich bastards you have hanging around, put it down, hands off, and keep dreaming."

Brielle on the outside merely shrugged and put the necklace back, but inside she was dying to claim it as her own.

"I agree that the court of Brigton is not full of upstanding men right now, and I have decided to wait until real players enter the fray to settle down."

"Uhm hmm. You just like your freedom."

"And you do not? Ms I-must-remain-woefully-single-forever-and-wear-drab-black-clothing-and-act-brutish-to-anything-with-potential-that-my-lovely-friend-Brielle-sends-my-way!?" Brielle teased right back.

"Yare yare, I keep you well clothed and accessorized, what more do you want from me on'na?" Rebecca finished.

Giving up on her stubborn friend, Brielle walked lazily around to the aisle of jewels across from Rebecca, "Just to be happy Bex, and preferably with someone by your side to share it with," she justified.

Sighing and thinking back to all Brielle's elaborate attempts at getting her to connect to someone outside of herself and her business, Rebecca nearly keeled over about some of the disastrous outcomes of those _dates_. _More like torture sessions._ She was managing on her own, and could not remember what it was like to not be.

Shaking herself out of that train of thought before it went and resurfaced memories better off forgotten, Rebecca looked back at Brielle and knew it was now or never. She needed information that only Brielle could give, and she placed enough trust in her longtime friend to supply her with it.

"Brielle."

The chattering of her friend stopped and she turned to look at her.

"Today I need something from you."

()()()

Bex needed something from me? Well this is new... Usually she just listens to me list the latest gossip from the court, in exchange for merchandise. What could my Rebecca darling desire from me?

Never a staller, her dark chocolate, dead serious eyes looked into my crystallized ones and said,

"I need the blueprints to the Tudor household."

Reeling slightly, I set the topaz set of earrings I was holding down.

"The Tudor household..." My eyes bulged a bit. That was a household that had strong Gyangu ties, and not a pretty history. Just what in the seven hells was my underground darling thinking going after Brigton's infamous gang family?

Elaborating her needs, Rebecca spoke again.

"Yes. I need to know what I am going to be dealing with in terms of their home. Is it a simple layout, with minimal defense, or an elaborate six stories with guards posted at every corner. For either of which I need to plan accordingly," she said, while her right hand ran through her cropped wavy hair.

My hands folded over my chest, thinking back to the limited evenings that I had to spend with a few of the lesser shady Tudor men, and knew exactly why Rebecca needed to plan out her move on the Tudor's. It was not going to be an easy infiltration.

"Well let me enlighten you right now, you would be walking into a house full of weapons, trained men with big muscles, and a power hungry family that would just looooove to get their hands on the famous... _infamous_...Procurer of the underground." I gave her a concerned look. I knew fully that Bex could take care of herself in the underground, but the Tudors played by a different set of rules on the surface above, and whatever she was up to, it was going to be on their territory. My frustration bubbled over and I could not help but reprimand her. "Nanda yo omae-wa? You are not some sort of spy baka-ne!"

There was a subtle rustle of fabric and one of the lamps along the walls of the basement store fluttered. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up and Rebecca gave me a sympathetic glance.

"That is why she has _me_ Nuri kabe, although my work is a little more involved than a spy."

()()()

Rebecca rolled her eyes, and I whipped around to see the same awful black cloak and hood that I had seen not two nights ago. My so-called plaster face contorted into an icy glare.

"You... you... you wretched creature!"

The assassin pulled back her long hood and her oval face exposed a smile that brightened the dimples on her cheeks. Thinking she had me pegged as an angry lover she dotted.

"Remington was not all that special..."

I rolled my pretty little lashes.

"Oh please, you think I care about the life of one spoiled rich boy, then you do not understand how the game works. There are plenty more like him around this city. No you toraboro thing, I am upset about _this_!" I spit harshly as I pointed up to my damaged temple.

Her rosy lips merely curled with suppressed mirth. The audacity of this woman! She couldn't be taller than five feet, yet she acted like she was the mightiest being to walk through the city!

"At least it was only a bump, Putaro. I can do much worse."

The playful steel in her hazel eyes promised that she could, but before I could get a dig at her own bloody profession, Rebecca cut in.

"Yare, Kat. I told you to wait until I filled Brielle in completely." The fence walked around to the aisle that the now named Kat and I shared. She stood at point between us, in a triangle like formation.

The short assassin raised an eyebrow at my friend and slipped off her gloves, one finger at a time.

"But you know how I love to make an entrance..."

At that I could not help but let out a huff of hot air. Her entrances probably lead to bloody exits.

"And the last time you made an entrance, you got me shot." Bex said dryly. "Besides your're an assassin Kat. You really shouldn't be making any entrances." She mentioned off handedly.

The two shared a look, and I felt uneasy.

Whatever these two had cooking, I wanted no part in stirring the pot. Stoic Sheriff was already keeping a hawk-like eye on me, I did not need to get mixed in with the Hand of Brigton's affairs, even if Rebecca asked for my help.

Bex must of sensed my determination to stay out of the shadows, because she immediately turned to me.

"Before you make a final decision, will you at least hear me out? I always remember you being a reasonable person Brielle."

"And I remember you being a honest fence Rebecca."

I saw Bex' eyes flash with emotion, while the assassin took out a sebon and twirled it between her nimble fingers and explained something to me.

"Those do not exist, painted lady. Especially not her. Not in this game that we play," she whispered in an unexpectedly light, airy, voice.

Game? What _game_ was she talking about? Certainly not the one I play - Bex just needed the blueprints to steal some sort of jewel or valuable that the Tudors possessed. One job and done. Underneath my plait of hair my brain started churning.

 _But then why would she need Kat's services...she could hire any of the master thief's she currently employed...unless she thought there would be trouble and needed the assassin's services...why would the assassin be serviced by a fence...why would she be involved in this kind of job...unless part of the gig involved someone being dead...and rich people being dead is quite popular at the moment.. Uricha said that..._

 _Oh Kami._

 _This was not an isolated incident._

I gasped and my hands tented my face as the realization had hit. Captain Uricha has said that many of the rich clientele of Brigton had been touched by the Hand's violence, and that we had similar clients. I turned to Rebecca my eyes full of accusation.

"You two are behind the recent murders! Clark, Tang, Remington...they were all you!"

Rebecca slowly nodded, the assassin studied her nails, and my stomach burned with fury. Thinking back to all the times I had talked about my nightly affairs, some between those who were now gone, an understanding settled over me like a heavy shroud.

Rebecca had been using my standard gossip to learn about certain targets habits, and had sent the Hand to take care of them.

"Like Kat said, there are no honest fences. Least of all me."

My eyes narrowed while focusing my anger and sense of betrayal on my friend. _I_ _ **hated**_ _being used._ Bex took a slow breath before speaking again.

"Brielle, I'm not going to explain, but it had to happen. I am sorry that I had to use you like that, but I you were the only one who could help me. I hope you will understand this, and that all their deaths _were_ justifiable."

I placed my hands on my hips and readied a speech to wring my so-called friend out, when her words hit me. This was Bex. Despite her being the Queen of the Black Market, she was the fairest friend I had. Fair did not mean she was nice, but it did not make her mean. She was middle ground, only deciding once the other player had made their move, on how to play. In all the transactions I had seen her complete, she always gave and asked for what the other person deserved and never double-crossed anyone unless provoked. It was one side or the other.

Seeing that she had me turning around, Rebecca reached out and grasped my wrists gently and looked into my eyes.

"I don't deserve it but I am asking you to trust me shin'yu. I need your help."

I saw that she was being entirely honest in her own way, that she was not going to hide what she and Kat were cooking up from me anymore, but she also was not going to involve me any more than she had too. _Kuso fence._

Seemingly exasperated with the entire ordeal, I waved a hand in the air.

"Fine. But you owe me big Procurer of the underground. So let's start off with some maharaja chi oolong tea, ne? This will take awhile, and if I am going off my past tours of the place, there will be lots to draw out. The Tudor mansion is built more like a military compound than a home, so it is full of little details you are going to need if you plan on making it out of this alive."

Both women seemed to let out a sigh of relief, and Kat's sebon disappeared back up her sleeve, in a manner saying that she was not trying to hide her actions. I stared at her hard and long, not quite knowing what her ulterior motive was for this job. Money? Fun? Or was it something else?

"Honey, I never expect to get along with you either, but let us try to not be at each other's throats the entire afternoon."

Kat merely smirked and stretched, making her way to the familiar table in the back.

XXXXX

Two hours later, a grandfather clock in the basement chimed and Brielle got up from the table that had served as the gathering place for the three ladies. She packed up the various pens and pencils that she had used to outline the Tudor household while Rebecca got up and marched back over to the store side of the basement and Kat pushed off the wall she had been leaning against.

Feeling all settled, Brielle followed Rebecca, and went over to the store, waiting to be led back to the bauble shop. Turning back towards Kat, she realized the assassin was gone.

"How is she..."

"Don't worry 'bout her. She takes care of herself," Rebecca answered.

" _Kowaii_."

"Perhaps." Rebecca smiled.

Both ladies returned to the staircase and as they were striding up, Brielle stopped suddenly.

Rebecca halted a few steps above her friend not turning to face Brielle, waiting.

"You know that I care about you right?" Brielle asked softly.

Bex couldn't answer her friend. Part of her dearly wante to but she knew she couldn't bbecause she wsn't sure of the answer. People like her don't get cared for by outsiders. Bex refrained from saying anything due to having her emotions locked far away from the upcoming plans that she and Kat needed to make. But she gave a slight nod in agreement. _Of course, and I care about you too._

"Then I hope you can understand that while I care about you, I do not care for the path you are heading down shin'yu. This is the only and last time I will help you surrounding such deeds." _I do not wish to play in this game of yours, death and destruction do not suit me, not anymore._

Bex let a pause fill the air, as she thought about her words. She had used dozens of other people without caring what happend to them or what became of them so why was Brielle so different? Taking a deep breath and turning back slightly she answered Brielle as honestly as she could.

"I understand. But know I will always thank you for ignoring your beliefs and helping me with mine."

With that the silken courtesan and shady procurer reentered the surface, ready to play once again.

Glossary-

Putaro - Tramp Horo-sha - tramp

toraboro- troublesome yakkiana - troublesome

omoshiroi-interesting

Nanda - What the hell? Ittai nani? - What the hell?

Ona'na- woman on'na - woman

Nanda yo omae-wa? - Who the hell do you think you are? Dare ga jigoku anata wa anata ga iru to omoimasu ka? - Who the hell do you think you are?

Baka ne - You fool anata ga damasu - you fool

Nuri kabe - Plaster face sekko-gao - plaster face

Kami- God Kami - God

shin'yu- best friend shin'yu - best friend

Kuso- damn kuso - damn

Kowai- scary kowai - scary


	2. The Hand parties with the Gyangu

Kat Parties with the Mob...

and The Hand swings by.

The pleasant scent that had filled Rebecca's store abruptly disappeared, and the woman of the underground turned back to her own personal underground kingdom. Nodding her head at Hiro, who was busy charming a customer into a set of ornate ivory chopsticks that she had to have, Rebecca walked through a few rows of exquisite hair pieces on display. All of which were _perfectly_ legal of course, before thinking about descending for a long night of planning. Brielle had gotten the ball rolling this afternoon with the completion of the blueprints, but for the job to be successful, it would take some strategy, stealth, and a little bit of luck.

She paused parallel to where the teen was ringing up the bamboozled woman at counter, and admired an intricate creation. A long copper pin, with purple silk orchids and pearls dripping down in strands. Thinking about that element, she had to inquire about a curious new trend throughout Brigton.

"How are the copper pieces selling Hiro?"

"They are a still flying out as fast as you're getting 'em in Miss Rebecca."

Strolling over the glass faced chest that housed all the typical copper wares, bangles, rings, pins, necklaces and even a few knives, she sighed. Strange thing, copper selling like that. Her shop had sold more of those trinkets to uppity city, and even mid class, folk in this month, than all year combined. Must be something new in the circles, but she'd have to check with Brielle about it, though Bex hadn't seen her doll friend in anything with a trace of the metal. _Interesting_.

Sauntering back over to the bookcase, she turned back to her boy.

"Keep the surface above ground, the under beckons me for the evening."

"Oh of course Miss Rebecca. You can count on me!" Hiro flashed his winning smile.

Grinning back at the lad with dark excitement, she descended back to the land of shadow, ready to get a plan in place for the match between her and the Gyangu.

XXXXX

Emerging from the secret staircase once again, Rebecca took another second to admire her basement's store. Some may call it contraband, but she preferred the term c _ollectables,_ that she had procured from near and far. They were all hers in this room. Objects had always held her interest, and she had traveled to many of their homelands and enjoyed the freedom it had given her. Her wings had been clipped though, and she hadn't left the city lines of Brigton in a long time. A frown skirted its dark face over her own. Thinking of the past always made her jaded, and recently she was enlightened on a way to remedy some of that kuso itami. She had two nights to plan... Rebecca's hands went to her hips and her eyes steeled. These were going to be a couple long nights. But it didn't matter. She strode over to the table still full of leftover tea tidings. She'd pull however many hours it took to get the plan laid out. The list was long and revenge was a game best played in the dark anyway.

/-/-/-/

"The lady in black is back. Down the steps with not a clack, to plan and not slack, for this she has a knack, though this diddle lack _s_..."

A sigh of exasperation echoed through the mostly empty space.

"That's not a true rhyme Kat...And how the hell did you get up there!"

I looked down at Bex so that she could witness my eye roll.

"Rebeeeeecca darling," I said suavely rolling my R and trying to copy the Nuri Kabe's voice, "I'm the Hand of Brigton. I can do _anything_ ," I purred on the last word.

Ignoring my self-proclaimed brilliance, she strode right under me and headed straight to the blasted table we'd been at since the princess of the silk had glided in.

"Then perhaps you _can_ stop acting like a bat in my belfry, and more like the kowai assassin-y friend that you are."

"Full of compliments today are we?"

"Only for you, you dark wraith."

I dignified her response with a cheshire smile.

"I'm not convinced...you mentioned some pretty nice things to the painted lady back there. A mistake really." I casually mentioned. "You do realize we'll need her _expertise_ again if we want to take care of that list you got," I commented while folding my knees over the banister I was sitting on. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes I let go.

Rebecca's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch as she relaxed against the solid mahogany, as I, her peculiar friend, flipped backwards and landed solidly on two feet.

"And you are imperfect?" She pondered out loud. I simply smirked as I tugged on my worn gloves.

"Did you really have to hit her that hard? I'll be owing her for months now."

Messing with the Procurer was quite an enjoyable part to my busy life. Right up there with slicing rich playboy's throats and goose egging a tweety twit. But now was not the time to push my luck, Kami knows I'll need it later. Shaking my head slightly at my sentimental friend, I walked over a grasped her shoulder. The floor plans hashed out this afternoon sprawled on the table between us, and my free hand reached for one of my twin sais to spin in between my fingers.

"We have a match we have to prepare for, and I like all my pieces in their rightful place before I begin to make a move."

Rebecca held out her hand and I passed her the slim weapon. With a slam the tip dug deep into the hardwood.

"As do I Asashin"

/-/-/-/

Though the Gyangu had a Theodosian name, that was as far as the connection between them went. It was a surface level relation. The Gyangu originated in the scorching, sandy hills of Selim, one of the ancient countries that bordered the relatively new city of Brigton. Back before Brigton became the formable city, with its High Lord ruling its court, it was a small trading stop in the paths to the Eastern countries. Countries like Theodosia, with its peaceful artisans and their secret tea recipes. However, when Brigton had decided to become more than just a stop and expanded the city boundary lines to become an industrialized city, many had seen an opportunity to expand their own businesses. This led to a hodgepodge of folks pushed into the developing city to enjoy its new modern amenities. Since Brigton had taken over a few of the smaller countries surrounding it, not all that peacefully, the boundary lines had nearly tripled. The city was really like its own country.

Seeing profit in acquiring some of the new estate that the now _much_ larger city of Brigton had to offer, the Gyangu had left their various desert holdings to relocate and have a permanent headquarters in the market district of the rising city. Although most of their family's fortune was made on the black market, the gang controlled various businesses inside the city and in many of its districts. They controlled restaurants that they liked to eat at, shops selling their favorite items, and meat markets where they took their victims to. _Blood is easier to blend when you are surrounded by it_. The Gyangu took the Theodosian name simply as a nod to the former country that had caused their city so much strife in the past, and because as the new mob of Brigton, they promised to do so much more.

Everything was all underground of course. It was easier to move goods when the City Guard is not constantly sniffing around business, which is why the Gyangu king pin dropped his Selim name, and became _Marquis Kal Tudor_ , head of the Tudor Family fortune, and leader of the mob that lurked in the underground. The alley cats of the slums whispered that gold ran through his very veins, and that he used it to create his fortune, because everything he owned was made from, shaded to, or crafted out of the dazzling metal. An enticing situation to many of the Thief Guilds out there. All that loot sitting in one measly household, just waiting to be snatched. But it was clear that no attempt had ever been made. Even those who did not know the Tudor name well, knew what messing with the Vipers of the Underground would lead to, and they stayed far away from the Gold Man's touch. It was common street knowledge that those who messed with the Gyangu nest simply did not make it out of the gold gilded gates surrounding the mansion, alive.

Which is why it took two underground queens two full nights to plan on how to maneuver in and out of the Kuso fortress that was masquerading as a mansion. _Six turrets with four archers on the roof, ten foot tall barbed gate around the entire perimeter, ghoul hounds inside waiting to tear intruders apart, and at least ten infantrymen posted at the front door with a duster-nozzle pistol each. And that is just the outside._ "Impressive." I whistled as I gathered up all my weapons from my typical spot, atop the back banister of the basement. "This will be a fun night." I loved a good challenge. Never had been able to resist testing the limits of my abilities, and tonight should prove to be just as entertaining as the last round I had played in. _Maybe more so, the painted lady won't be there for damage control._ Thinking back to my fence's odd choices in friends, I pondered how they came to be so close. Rebecca and I had true history, but how had they cultivated a friendship from merely a fence and courtesan transaction? Before I got too far with that thought, Rebecca came back down stairs with a slight frown on her face.

"Trouble above?" I inquired while stepping off the beam and landing in a slight crouch.

"Maybe...maybe not. There could be a new player sitting in this round, who could cause some trouble."

Unlike Rebecca, I always felt that new players were always a welcome surprise in my twisted little mind, but I did understand how it could unsettle Rebecca. The Procurer was putting a lot into this night, revealing herself to Brielle, playing with the Gyangu, and considering the crazy hours we put into planning this phase, I understood the tension. Felt it like a taut string running through my slender frame. As much as I loved playing with new things, my shin'yuu fears would not be mixed into tonight's affairs.

I retrieved my gloves from one of my back pockets, pulling them on as I made my way over to what I referred to as my _exit._ Standing above the rusty grate that led to the sewer system of Brigton, I pulled my hood up, and gray cowl over my face.

"The only thing causing trouble should be us tonight my shin'yu," I replied calmly. "I will make sure of it."

/-/-/-/

New player my pretty little knives!

After spending a great deal of the night dodging the archers careful gazes, ghoul hound's noses, scopes of killer pistols, and a pesky amount of servants, I had finally made it to the inner sanctum of the Gold Man's house. Where the Gyangu spoke freely and the bourbon and poker was poured and played even more so. Luckily the circular office of Marquis Kal Tudor, was home to a countless number of tapestries, paintings, and rare ancient statues of the Selim dessert culture. _Homage to his ancestors, how generous._ These objects gave the otherwise plain and shadowless room many places to hide and wait for the right time to strike. Since it was my first rest of the night, and probably the last before I played my hand, I had taken the time to go over the list the Procurer had given me.

The men of the room played and drank at a table directly in the middle of the room, underneath one fantastically gaudy chandelier, and I routinely went through their names as I slipped behind a statue of the massacre of the Selim children, which happened roughly forty years prior to this night. It had lots of blood. _Pafekuto. A perfect painting to set the mood._ The thought tided me over, until I saw one older gentleman who was not on Rebecca's list. _Odd, but one old geezer would not throw me off,_ that was until I saw his escort.

 _That damu ona!_ Sitting next to the greying man was a beautiful young woman in a gown of golden silk, with a very familiar fading grey shawl draping below her shoulders.

What was she doing here, playing around with some man twice her age, and interrupting my perfect move?! I did not like interruptions. Not one eensy bit. Her little doll face would get it first, Procurer's friend or not. No one plays with The Hand of Brigton.

Just as my hands had glided over to where I lined the throwing knives inside my cloak, the painted lady leaned over the her patron for the night and whispered something in his ear. His wrinkled face crinkled more and his eyes lit up with excitement. She simply sat back and pulled her shawl around her tanned shoulders, covering the cleavage that had threatened to spill out of her golden gown of choice. _Well played Putaro._

Her gentleman stood and addressed the table of mobsters, looking directly at Kal Tudor as he spoke in a raspy wise tone. "Gentlemen, as much as I would love to finish our game and knock back a few more bourbons this evening, my lovely companion for the night has requested that we depart, as she is not feeling all that well."

A few of the men at the table made pig glances at the beauty currently resting against Kosuke Maruboshi, and I almost laughed out loud. Pigs playing poker making money, while the old tea master had _the_ Brielle Greysilk pressed to his side. Willingly. The question inside their heads was also in mine. _How?_ Before any of them got a chance to voice their displeasure at the fortune of a pruny old man, Kal Tudor stood as well, dwarfing the bearded tea brewer.

Giving the pair a once over, his commanding voice took hold of the room.

"I believe that we still have business to discuss Master Maruboshi." I could almost feel the rush of air that pushed out of the table, leaving only tension behind. A couple of the goons lining the circumference of the room made to grab their weapons. _This night just keeps getting better and better._ Using the distraction, I made my way over to one of the solid wood pillars that lead up to rafters of the ceiling. Might as well get a better view of the show.

Before the guns were brought out, Kal raised his hands.

"But seeing the bruises marring Ms. Greysilk's delicate complexion, I can understand her discomfort."

I could not hold in my snort. Seriously it had to come out. Thank Kami I was up high in the sky so none of the mobsters could hear it. I did have a reputation of a ruthless killer to uphold, which is why the thought of Kal Tudor, a man whose reputation matched mine, feeling sorry for minor bruising on a doll was laughable. Rolling my eyes I watched as _Ms. Greysilk_ politely thanked the host and guided Master Maruboshi out of the room, her dress swishing next to his dark robe with each step and strike of his cane.

Once the pair had left the room, Kal sat back into his plush chair, and one of his minions spoke. The only one who hadn't had a sip of alcohol, and had a pad of paper in front of his seat instead of a hand of cards. The scribe of the gang.

"What of the deal between Maruboshi and Gyangu? We need to make sure he makes a contribution to this city's greatest patron or other businesses will..."

" _Master_ Maruboshi knows what will happen if he does not pay the Gyangu, Xeres. He will not delay this anymore than he has. Besides," the tanned bastard grinned, "How could I deprive him of an evening spent with the finest doll Brigton has to offer. Even his old bone needs some exercise."

With that, all the previous tension blew out of the room and the men laughed and yucked it up at their boss's sense of humor. The drinking became looser, and the jokes more outrageous, and when they started getting tasteless I made my move.

I am not sure any of them really knew what flew down from the rafters and dangled above the table until after my knives had planted themselves in their throats, taking special care to those on the Procurer's list. All of their prayers were short, their handprints slapped on, and I was back up my thread, still fuming and planning my next act of debauchery for the night.

 _Don't dance with the devil little girl, unless you know how to play_

 _/-/-/-/_

Finding where the painted lady lived was not difficult. Though those who circulated the higher circles of Brigton tried to keep where they lived as private as possible. For the most part the artisans, actors, and courtesans kept their private lives underground, while they dabbled publically in the games played above ground. But when you press a few knives to a couple creeps from slums, or pay off a few other fences, you tend to get information. So finding the most sought after doll of Brigton was not a challenge. Especially when I was coming off the high that killing the entire Gyangu elite produced. I scented the nuri kabe out just after three in the morning, as she was walking back most likely from her _lovely_ evening spent with the master tea brewer. Her shoes were dangling from her hands and she walked casually through the gates, looking like she had had a blissful evening.

Not anymore.

I waited until she had gotten through her buildings front doors, and had taken the grated elevator up to her penthouse floor, and was musing my way around the garden that she hosted on her roof, when something flickered near a sleeping sakura tree.

Fingers flashed as the metal star I had flicked at the enemy was caught, and they stepped out from their hiding place among the branches. I growled in irritation.

"Nanda Procurer, what are you doing _here?!_ " I hissed. She never left her nest while a round was in motion, and tonight would be especially dangerous as soon as the Tudor household was alerted to the death of the beloved Gold Man. Just as the thought left my mind, the Brigton bells went off, alerting the City's Watch of the bloody evening. _Captain Uricha's night just got longer._

She didn't even flinch at my steel, which made me madder.

"Good thing to know you haven't lost you touch," she joked half heartedly.

My glare could have killed a lesser woman, but she rolled her eyes, unperturbed.

"Kat..." the woman of the underground started, and a bristle rolled through me.

"Do NOT call me that," I retorted, fingers itching inside the leather gloves. I was on the job, I was not her. I was The Hand. The Hand of Brigton who terrorized this city. The Hand who _reminded_ little dolls as to why they should never mess with one of my plays. Especially twice. Before I could make a move to the rooftop door that lead into the penthouse, the Procurer stopped me. She reached out for one of my torn sleeves and I froze. Grabbing my gloved hands she forced me to look at her and keep grounded, before I flew off the handle. _Again._ I looked into my friends earthy eyes and had to ask.

"Why was she there tonight Rebecca? It was unexpected, and I do not like it when my plans get interrupted."

Rebecca waited a moment, our pulses evening out a little.

"From what I can tell, her being there was as unexpected to her as to us," she started calmly. Just before you left, Hiro informed me that she had stopped by to buy some of the best black market Theodosian matcha tea leaves, and orange blossom massage oil. Knowing her as I do, I recognized that she was being called on by Master Maruboshi, the master tea blender of Brigton."

I tightened my grip on the taller woman slightly.

"I saw the old man there. Had her dangling off him like a sick, twisted, old teme..."

"Actually Brielle was probably more inclined to display affection than Maruboshi," Rebecca cut in.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. Who in their right mind would want to be affectionate to a man that seniored them by at least forty-five years?

Rebecca chuckled. "Oh they have been friends for a long time. Brielle has a special place in her heart for that man."

"Anywhere else she has a special place for him?" I scoffed.

Frowning Rebecca looked back into my eyes.

"Kat. Brielle is not always what she seems..."

"She is a whore, who sleeps with men for money," I stated bluntly. "Classy as she seems, with her flashy outfits and elaborate makeup, that's just how it is. Being the top doll doesn't change that fact." Pausing my tirade, I thought about how someone of her _caliber_ met a man of Maruboshi's status. "She probably met old geezer while looking for a great pile of cash with not much oil left, at some sort of party, but decided she couldn't devote herself to one man long enough to wait for him to snuff out!"

My hands were released suddenly, and Rebecca turned away. She paced back toward the tree, then back to me. To the tree and back. Finally, after making me slightly dizzy she paused, sending a thoughtful glance my way.

"Do you know how I met Brielle? How we became more than just a shopper and a merchandiser?" I shook my head, my hood falling loose as I did so.

Rebecca turned and faced the balcony that overlooked the center district of our beloved Brigton, lost in thought, the dim lighting of the garden offsetting the brightness of the city lights. After thinking for a moment, she crossed her arms in front of her and started.

"Well you see, there were two kids that worked in a house that Brielle had taken a long term job in, it was right at the beginning of her doll career so she had to build up her reputation," Rebecca explained. "These two kids were full blooded Theodosians, like herself so she had taken to them immediately."

Thinking back to how freely Brielle had used the mother tongue back in the basement, dressed in the eastern style on days off, and enjoyed many aspects of the culture, I understood that she really did love our country. Picturing her connecting to two kids of the same breed was not difficult.

"When one of the kids reached about thirteen they developed what is called a gift."

I nodded, thinking back to the old tales of people with incredible gifts, like healing, conjuring, and even flying, existed. Ever since Brigton had pushed into the Eastern land of Theodosia and taken over, less and less tales were told. Everyone knew that to be discovered with a gift meant a lot of different things, not all good. Enslavement, rights being taken away, and constantly under the monitor of someone to name a few sparkling things. Most of the gifted had faded underground, or had come to believe that their gifts did not exist, simply out of self preservation. A huge part of the culture wiped out, due to the greed of another.

While I was entranced in the depressing state of my culture, Rebecca had shuffled over the railing and was leaning over it, the wind rippling through her cloak and hair. Her head bowed into her arms, I saw that it was even shaking slightly.

"This kid had no idea what to do. He freaked out. I mean flashing invisible, and disappearing in front of the entire kitchen staff tends to do that..." My eyes bugged. _Impressive._

On the same track, Rebecca nodded. "A gift indeed, until the truth is out there and you cannot take back that moment and go back to living your life. The kid was thirteen and on his way to Kami knows where, to do whatever the Brigton Guard, or the High Lord commanded."

The thought of another kid being ripped away from their life and stripped of rights they always had, and then being forced to do work for other people made my body tingle. All for being blessed with an ancient ancestral power. But where did Brielle fit into this?

"Patience Kowai-san. I'm getting there."

The freaking Ona! She's reading my mind and calling _me_ scary one! Rebecca laughed and continued her tale.

"Brielle happened to be at this household that day, and managed to delay the kid's departure to the City's High Lord ruler, by doing what, I have no idea, but she did it. She then reached out to me, putting together that I was not merely a shopkeeper in the slums, but that I moved certain underground _goods_ around too."

I nodded at this, understanding how Brielle had come to this conclusion. After walking through Rebecca's shop, and paying extremely close attention to the items sold there, the idea that not all were stocked from the surface came to mind. She had too diverse of a selection.

"But the problem was, at that time I didn't have the network to get the kids out of the city. I did not have the connections to ensure that they would make it beyond the border, let alone safely, so Brielle had to go to someone who did. Someone who had easy access to ports outside the city, that could make a last minute shipment without looking too suspicious. See where I'm going with this?"

Kuso Woman, making me do all the hard thinking. Well back a couple of years there were a few big names in the _legal_ trade business who would not catch the City Guards beady eyes. The McMillans, but they only traded inside the borders, the Wallaces with their sea trade, but that would be a hassle trying to acquire a ship so late...I thought there was one more...I had joined Rebecca at the balcony, leaning against the railing, but I couldn't contain my shock and I stuck out a hip. My mouth may have even opened slightly. Oh _she did not... but oh yes she did._

"She went to the old geezer didn't she."

Rebecca's laugh echoed through the array of flowers.

"Brielle sought out Master Maruboshi, yes. And the tea master managed to slip not only the gifted teen, but also his younger brother out of the borders, on a last minute tea shipment headed to a city by Selim."

Still reeling from the fact that plaster face had taken the risk to help one kid, my face scrunched.

"Just what the hell did she do to get him to do that?! I mean...just what..."

Putting up a hand, Rebecca stopped my awkward implications. "I am not sure of this, and have never been able to get it out of her officially, she can be just as shadowy as us, but I believe that those two have history together. That Maruboshi did this as a favor to her, and she does what.. well... she does as a favor to him. An honor thing."

I pulled off my gloves and turned to lean my back over to the railing that formed the perimeter of the garden. Both risked a lot to save two kids. A Tea empire and a promising courtesan future. Just to help two poor Theodosian kids. None of it was really making sense, and it was frustrating as well as intriguing. Who was Brielle Greysilk really? The mystery of it all was delightfully buried somewhere...with some _one._

Rebecca didn't seem to hold my same feelings.

"We all have things we like to keep buried Kat. Both of us should understand more than most."

I shrugged, lacing my fingers behind my head, and stretching back nearly halfway over the railing. Probably like five inches from death, well maybe more like three. _Who cares?_

"I am simply curious as to how a demure doll has history with the best tea blender in the last century."

Neither answering nor denying her own curiosity, Rebecca simply put it like how it is.

"That my shin'yuu, is simply how the pieces fell."

Glossary-

Asashin: assassin asashin - assassin ubiytsa - assassin

kuso- damn or fuck kuso - damn chert - damn?

itami- pain itami - pain bol' - pain

shin'yuu- best friend shin'yu - best friend luchshiy drug - best friend

damu ama- dumb bitch damu meinu - dumb bitch nemoy suka - bumb bitch

Putaro- tramp horo-sha - tramp brodyaga - tramp

Kami- God Kami - God bog - God

Nuri Kabe- plaster face sekko-gao - plaster face shtukaturka litso - plaster Sakura- cherry blossom sakura no hana - cherry blossom face

Kowai-scary kowai - scary vishni v tsvetu - cherry blossom

zhutkiy - scary


	3. Chutes and Sheriffs

Chutes and Sheriffs

It was just going to be one of those lazy days. One where the last burst of warmth from summer lingered, before the crispness of fall hit. Where everyone was out and about, but doing nothing. Bex observed the front of her store and let her eyes close and head roll back, working out the kinks in her shoulders. Sometimes revenge was a stressful process. Ignoring her desire to close shop on a business day, she contemplated stretching out behind the counter. Hiro could manage the front for her. The boy was practically begging for someone to walk through the purple door, from the way he was going at the outside windows. He'd spent at least two hours cleaning the inside ones, and was looking to double that for the outside panes. She snorted. Her little shop was going to be a shining token in the slums of the city, a gem in the belly of grime. _Ideal'nny_

Hearing Hiro suddenly drop his array of sponges and dramatically drop into a conversation, her eyes twitched. Someone wasn't really going to come in and bother her rest. She would not hear that door creak, or the bell above it chime. No, not today...

 _Oy Ad._

"Hellooooo my beloved Bex," a melodic voice interrupted the poor fence's rest. "Do not tell me no one is out today and visiting you?" they gasped in mock horror.

Cracking an eye open, and slouching to rest her pointed chin on one of her hands, she gave her eccentrically dressed friend a glare that would have made a lesser being shiver in fear. In fact she thought she heard Hiro outside release an eep, and the sound of water spilling onto the pavement. Opening her other eye, Bex confirmed that her adorable, yet very clumsy, help had fallen off his step ladder and had managed to dump the contents of his cleaning bucket over himself.

Turning to look at what had caught Bex's attention, Brielle blanched slightly.

"Yare, that boy knows how to create chaos."

"You should see him around the glass delacables..." the fence muttered.

Brielle looked skeptically at her friend, and at the shelves of glass goodies stocked behind the counter.

"He cleans those?"

"When allowed, and only if there are no customers around."

"So...like right now?"

If Bex was being honest, Brielle had a point. There was positively no one, no souls, and more importantly, no coin purses perusing her shop. Dropping her face to her both of her hands, she let out a feral growl.

Her rosy stained lips twitching at her friend's antics, Brielle moved in to comfort the distraught woman with a few pats on the shoulder.

"There there, Bex. I'm sure he won't break _too_ many.."

With each tap Bex's growls gained in volume, until the last of Brielle's words slipped out, and then she fell silent. Bex's hands fell and she fixed a devious, delightful face on Brielle's frozen form.

"Beeeex..." Brielle started, as she backed away slowly, while reaching into the scrappy fabric shoulder satchel she carried.

"Brielle, what if..." Bex started as she stalked slowly to the Doll's location.

"Nope, absolutely not, I refuse," Brielle exclaimed. "Dust makes my nose itch, and can you not see the outfit I am wearing?! I would hardly be able to be of any proper service in such. In fact to _convince_ you that I cannot provide any such services, here is a little something." she finished while drawing out a carefully packaged piece of parchment.

The stalking stopped.

Breathing in a sigh of relief Brielle handed her friend over the parchment she had procured while on her last job. Opening the slip, Bex's trained eyes scanned the page, and a cheshire smiled immediately replaced her previously predatory expression.

"This is a wonderful development you have discovered _droog_."

"Thanks I..."Bex cut in,

"But I'm merely going to suggest that Kat would be better skilled in the cleaning task, especially when trying to get to the shelves lining the ceiling."

Brielle paused, took a deep breath, and glared at her friend.

"I'm sure that is exactly what you were planning on saying my dear," her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And in that case, please consider that parchment a _gift._ "

"GIIIIIFFFTSS? Brielle-sama has gifts?"

Both friends shared a knowing look.

"Ah, Hiro. Have you finished cleaning the windows?" Bex questioned, fully intending to distract the teen so Brielle could make a clean get away from her overzealous admirer.

"Of course Miss Rebecca! Each has been precisely wiped the correct amount of times, cleaned to counter the sun's path to ensure total clearness, and polished to the perfect reflective amount..."

Nodding to Brielle as the Doll casually made her escape to the front of the store, Brielle gave a slight wave in return.

"But now I see that the store is clear, I shall move on and continue the quest to cleanliness by ridding the glass delacables of the dust that has settled among them!"

"Yes, Hiro about that," Bex started. "You will not need to worry about that task, because I believe Kat will be designated to that particular chore."

 **...**

"She needs to earn her keep."

 **...**

"She needs to exercise her domestic abilities."

 **...**

"She _needs_ to get out of the basement and see some sunshine."

Freezing in her attempt at leaving the store, Brielle cautiously turned around at the sudden silence encompassing the front showroom. Her wrist bangles clanged together as she brought her hands to her chest. Hiro had gone completely still. The normally energetic teen had fallen completely silent, and his eyes had gone dangerously blank.

"Hiro-chan...?" Brielle pondered, "Are you well?"

"Hai. Hai Brielle-sama! Hai hai hai hai! Never better!"

The look of concern exchanged between the two women did not go unnoticed by the teen.

"No no really! Miss Rebecca is right! Kitty-chan needs to see the sunshine!" Shaking his head and looking over at Brielle, "She only comes out to play at night, it is time for the sunshine to see her face and for her to experience Miss Rebecca's showroom. In fact I'll go get her. _Right now._ " Hiro's voice trailed off as he booked it towards the bookcase.

"This ought to be good..." Brielle predicted

"If he gets his _Kitty-chan_ out of the dark basement before sun set, he deserves to do some more cleaning," Rebecca responded as they heard the secret door close.

"Cleaning? Nani? Not a pay raise?" Brielle asked.

"Hmph. That boy would work for free if I let him. Cleaning _is_ a reward."

Both women shared a laugh and made their way to plush chairs that Bex kept in the showroom for the gentleman of her customers for some conversation to pass the slow afternoon time. Just as they had sat down and started getting into an interesting conversation about the recent spike in copper wares, they heard a blood curdling scream.

" _Chert_.. that can't be go-"

Rebecca's statement was cut off from the world when the back bookcase swung wide open and crashed into the wall behind it. An orange clad visage rushed through the opening and began to dash wildly around the store. Realizing the dasher was Hiro, Rebecca demanded just what he was doing.

"Yosh! Miss Rebecca, I am introducing Kitty-chan to the sun! She needed some motivation, I have thusly provided it!" he informed the women a little maniacally.

"Hiro...what did you do?" His boss asked while standing.

Before the boy had a chance to respond, an eerie silence ghosted out of the back by the bookcase. It seeped into the store and the three of them tensed.

"Hiro-chan...I think you should run," Brielle cut through the silence.

"Yes, Yes. Run little pip squeak. Because _when_ I catch you, you'll die," Kat stated bluntly.

Gasping, all three turned to look at their nocturnal basement troll, and all were shocked. Brielle turned away to hide her laughter, Bex immediately looked to Hiro with a completely stunned and awed look, and Hiro...

" _Run,"_ Kat growled.

"YOSH!"

The two started a game of Kat and mouse through the store. Hiro using his lithe body and teenage coordination to outrun Kat's wits and assassin agility, though in her new outfit she was hindered. While those two were busy, Brielle and Bex started guessing how on earth Hiro got Kat into that ensemble.

"Maybe he lured her..."

"More like bribed her."

"Maybe even threatened her?"

A laugh was again shared between the women, all the while Hiro had managed to make it back to where the counter and register were located. Jumping the counter, he almost cleared it, except he caught his sandaled feet on the edge, forcing him to seemingly fly straight into the wall. Having trapped her prey, Kat jumped atop the counter and stood proudly with her hands on her hips, showing off Hiro's brilliant ensemble perfectly. Ruffles and ruffles of white lace taffeta poised perfectly for rosy silk flowers to settle in.

It was all Rebecca and Brielle could do to not completely lose it at the sight of their typically midnight clad friend to be trussed up in such an innocent look. One really had to find out how Hiro had managed that without dying a preterm death.

Speaking of the teen, he realized he had but moments to find a way out, and spent them looking behind the counter for any way to dodge around the angry assassin. A quick glimpse behind him and he saw his ticket out, or more literally his chute out.

Kat saw what Hiro was planning as soon as he did.

"Don't you dare, you little..."

Hiro never determined what he was because he opened up the trash chute and disappeared through it before Kat could finish. Not one to waste any time, or spend any thinking about how else she could corner the runt, she dove head first after him.

By this time Brielle and Rebecca had managed to gather themselves and moved in front of the counter so they could lean over it and see the chute where they heard a distinct " _Well shit..."_ from inside. Seconds later they heard a distinct _eeep._

"Was that...?" Brielle started

"Yup." Bex answered. "Kat.. how ya doin' down there _little one?"_

...

"I have encountered a slight problem."

"I figured that," the fence said while rolling her eyes and slipping behind the glass counter and heading to where the chute was located in the wall.

"What is wrong?"

"Well see, this kuso dress and this narrow chute do not seem to get along very well. I'd like to stay out of their disagreement, but some things can't be helped."

Growling at her friends antics, Bex demanded a straightforward response. Hearing shuffling and muffled swearing in return, Brielle finally got closer to the chute, looked down and burst into an uncommon guffaw of laughter. The struggling stopped, and Bex asked again what was wrong.

"They are still not compatible my _leise,_ and I may require assistance."

"What?" the woman in black asked, while placing both hands on the ledge of the opening to the trash chute that lead to the alleyway.

"I implore of you, my longest friend, that you help me."

"Dammit Kat what is wrong?!"

Pausing in her fit, Brielle could barely get her sentence out.

"Oh this...should be good! ... Do continue my... kowaii friendship!"

"Brielle..." Bex warned,

"Oh no, this is too good of an opportunity to waste! All those jokes about my hips and _their actions,_ payback is a reward I need to devour (savor?)."

Giving up on any attempt at rectifying the situation covertly, Kat gave in.

"I. Am. Stuck."

Both the fence and the courtesan froze.

And promptly burst into another round of laughter.

Bex recovered first, and heard from in the tunnel,

"Yes. Yes, It is all fun and games when the assassin is stuck. When she is not however, is when the fun _really_ begins."

The dark tone reminded Bex that the typically nocturnal assassin was not only stuck in her trash chute, but stuck there in a frilly white dress. Completely at their mercy. Hilarious. Too bad she did not have one of those new photograph machines, because this would have been the photo of a lifetime.

Deciding to finally provide her assistance to her friend, only after hearing a few more of Kat's dark deranged threats, Bex crouched into the chute to see what she could do.

Normally light on her feet, and quick thinking, Bex was not prepared for the darkness or the slickness of the metal sides. To say both her and Kat were shocked to find both of themselves packed into the narrow exit would have been a vast understatement.

They both took a moment before speaking.

"Nice weather is it not?"

"Kat, you don't even know if it's sunny out, you never leave the basement."

"Well now that I have had _so_ much fun doing so, I'll be very sure to do so in the near future. Perhaps even give Hiro a thank you..."

Bex snorted, her breath catching on Kat's leg.

"Knowing your thank you's, I am sure he'd rather not clean for a week."

"Just don't get any ideas there my fence, I am quite exposed here, I'd hate for you to take advantage of me." Rolling her eyes at the assassins implications, Bex kicked out at the metal side, creating a muffled clang up to the opening.

"Oy! Dollface! You want to pull yourself together and offer _your_ assistance?"

In fact Brielle would need at least five more minutes to recover, for she had fallen onto the floor and was dry heaving because of her laughter. Her fit would have continued but she heard the door chime.

Controlling her breathing, the popular courtesan peaked over the counter and tried to hide her shock.

 _He_ could not be in the store. She was absolutely dreaming. Why would the Stoic sheriff ever find himself down in the dregs of society? Ducking back down and leaning against the counter, she thought more about it. The only reason why he would be down here would be if he was following a trail that led to Bex's shop, and there was no way in hell she'd let him find the connection between her and her favorite fence.

Weighing her options, the few she had, she sighed, and muttered an old Theodosian curse about friends and the things they'd do for each other, and sent herself to meet up with the trapped duo.

Captain Uricha heard promising tales of the perfect copper pieces sold at this certain store, and found himself meandering through the dregs of this district in search of some of the fine jewelry. His mother was in need of a few new baubles, and wanting to please her, he made the voyage on such a nice day and on his free hour. No one would ever know, but the powerful young man was a mama's boy through and through. He would do anything to please the Uricha matriarch.

Upon entering the store though, he realized the front room was empty. Dark eyes scanned the counter and found that to be vacant as well. Everything was in place, the only thing odd was that the trash chute was left open. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he let out a sigh through his nose.

His mother would have to wait. How unfortunate.

Turning to leave, he gave one last glance to the open chute, shook off the odd feeling he had about it, and walked back out the front door.

Meanwhile three trapped girls were having a ball inside a trash chute.

"I cannot believe this."

"Well I can't believe you came down _willingly_."

"Hmph! And I cannot believe that you are in a dress!"

Praying to all that was good and holy, and that Hiro would eventually return and help them Bex sarcastically murmured her own thoughts on the afternoon's events,

"Yet I'm shocked that on the list of things to go wrong today, being trapped in a trash chute was not on it. Because that would be the obvious one."


	4. Another Player to the Game 1

Another Player to the Game...

Part One

After hearing the fall of the Gyangu's Kingpin, and most of the Viper's inner circle, the City was feeling a little shocked. The sudden departure of the ruthless gang affected Brigton as a whole. Each of the city's districts had their respective Lords scrambling to recover, trying to hide business that most of them participated in with the shady snakes, without any of that knowledge going to the High Lord. The High Lord was in charge of Brigton as a whole, and if he or any of his circle were to hear whispers of one of the District Lord's' dealings... well it would not be pleasant.

That is not to say High Lord Hasselton was unfair, he was just very blunt. Understandable for a man who had to be in charge and oversee six districts, while also managing foreign affairs, potential uprisings in the countryside, and being a father of three and a husband. A better description of High Lord Hasselton would be that he does not do too well with beating around the bush, He prefers to get straight to the problem at hand. This would likely mean that any District Lord who had his business log deeply scoured by the High Lord or his circle, would likely lose their position, holdings, and title. Which would cause an avalanche of chaos, as each of the district Lord's had many underlings that worked under them. The massacre at the Viper's pit shook the entire shady side of Brigton's top family's. So when more bodyguards, hired thugs, and mercenaries started to receive many of the district Lords' coins, there were not too many second glances. To the district Lords', it appeared that their safety was at risk, from the select assassinations throughout the Lord ranks to the Viper's slaughter, it seemed that someone was planning on taking down some of the city's best reputations. A scary thought to some.

Some like Lord Deckor, a Brigton supremacist, who benefited greatly from the Theodosian take over ten years ago. He owned some of the largest rice paddies in the city, had countless number of Theodosian peasants for cheap labor, and managed a tight grip on the new Brigton black market. The threat of someone picking off district Lords who showed no mercy to the former Eastern culture did not go unnoticed to him or his underlings. The gyangu had been his thugs of the underbelly of Brigton, the muscle he used to enforce obedience from the merchants who helped line his gilded pockets, and with the direct annihilation of them paired with the fact the an assassin with an agenda appeared to be targeting particular businesses with anti-Theodosian ideals, scared him more than anything had in a good twenty years. To say the sixth district Lord was worried was putting it mildly, in fact Lord Deckor had taken the extreme caution of hiring his own personal night walker, to combat the one Brigton had currently strutting around. One could never be too careful when the Hand of Brigton was still free to walk the grounds.

XXXXX

"So what happened after that?" Bex asked Brielle, who was still dolled up in her Tanarus ball dress. The trio were relaxing down in what Kat had named their lair, discussing the finer points of the courtesan's evening, from the dancing to the snoozing company in attendance.

"Before or after the third district's lord got so far into the wine case he thought that Lord Ayre's tworly-tweeter could breed with Master Tanarus's Eagle and produce an almighty avian offspring of half beautiful golden eagle specimen, and the other half indestructible machinery," the courtesan pondered outloud.

The Fence's blank look could have been printed and sold, for her expression of ridicule was subtle but yet had such depth and wonder of how such stupidity could exist. Kat, who had been practicing her handstand balance skills on one of the ceiling beams, lowered and draped herself in half over the thick piece of wood at the mention of the third Lord and his ramblings

"Oh man, he's the one who's a tish orokana? Like touched in the head..."

Brielle sighed.

"Lord Bamford may be a bit _eccentric_ , but at least after he's been into the cabernet he has a sense of humor. Most of those fruits just get belligerent and handsy."

"And you would be the expert on that, now wouldn't you Nuri kabe?" Kat asked chesirely.

Brielle narrowed her kohl lined eyes slightly at the assassin's dig, while wrapping her fingers around her hot tea mug, perhaps waiting...

"Ah ah ah. play nice druz'ya. This is brand new cargo that I'm sorting here," Bex cautioned.

"What gave you the impression that anything was wrong my fencey friend?" Kat asked while laying down on her stomach, dangling her arm right over where Brielle was seated. "Scared the assassin and the courtesan can not coexist?"

Smirking Brielle answered Kat's question.

"No baka ne, the Fence is worried that her precious _cargo_ would be caught in the cross-fire."

Kat laughed and flipped onto her back while exclaiming."There wouldn't be much of any crossfire sweetheart."

"Oh go fall off your banister you wraith."

"Impossible, I haven't lost my balance yet, and I won't start now."

"So you think," Brielle said teasingly.

"So I know."

"And I know that both of you would never, ever attempt anything for fear of death and dismemberment, correct?" asked the fence as she sorted the last of one of the new boxes into yet another box to be brought up. Wiping the dust off of her hands and appreciating her new shipment of wares, she placed her hands on her hips and graced the two with her own special kind of look.

"Ah," both ladies replied. The slight tension in the room was dispersed and that is when Hiro interrupted looking for Brielle-sama.

"Hiro-chan slow down, you know I cannot understand you when you go on like that," the doll chided mildly.

"Gomene Brielle-sama, it's just that this just arrived for you!" the boy explained slower while showing the trio the gilded envelope that had arrived for the Doll at her letterbox, which like most Doll's, cycled through a business near her home.

Hiro went once a day, disguised as an old man, to check and see what had been delivered, and either brought the post back to the shop for her to read, or ventured out to Brielle's lavish loft. One could never have their real address floating around with the job that she kept, and Hiro personally loved disguising himself as an ojiichan.

Gliding and dancing around the various boxes Bex had scattered around the familiar table, she made her way over to where the boy had stopped and grasped the letter. She glanced at the address and visually blanched.

"Oh ho, who's requesting the Doll's delightful face now? Perhaps you've caught the eye of that greaseball Sinnet," Kat joked while pulling her hood over her eyes and crossing her ankles on her precious beam.

Bex handed her friend a small knife she had tucked inside her hidden sleeve sheath, with a small amount of curiosity on her face, and Brielle sliced open the parchment to reveal its contents.

"Actually it's High Lord Hasselton who is requesting me to attend," Brielle stated simply. "He wishes for me to accompany his youngest son, as he is just of age, and has yet to become accustomed to ball culture."

Kat fell off her banister. Bex jumped and had two hands on her twin short blades before she realized nothing was amiss, and that Brielle had not even startled. _Peculiar._

"Nanda?! You mean the big fat temi is actually letting you into his castle?"

"Honestly Kat, it's not that uncommon," Brielle answered nonchalantly.

The assassin looked sceptical.

Bex relaxed and dropped down into one of the chairs near where the assassin had face planted, "She's telling the truth, druz. Many Lords use a Doll to help get their sons up to speed on what happens at a ball,"

"Or after," the assassin said suggestively as she got up and climbed onto the end of the table. "They use you because that way if their sons mess something up, they haven't ruined their reputations in front of some noble lady."

Brielle smiled and started walking towards the front of Bex's basement store, towards the door.

"This is true," she started, "But they are such wonderful students, and much better to look at than their dreadfully older fathers."

"Agreed, will you be of need of my services than?" Bex asked the Doll.

"No, I believe I have the perfect dress to wear to the High Lord's Ball waiting for me in my closet," she said mysteriously opening up the door in the coded way.

"Ah, take care, and be safe Brielle," commented the fence.

Giggling Brielle opened the door and was making her way up the stairs as she made on last remark.

"Oh please, I'm safer up there than I am down here! Didn't you hear that The Hand has lost some of her skills? _Falling off_ on her job I'd say!"

"Oh shove off it!" the assassin shouted, coming out of her tabletop meditation.

乄Бల❌乄

After my favorite doll had left the store I _convinced_ my lovely basement tenant to help organize and inventory my new collectables into new homes downstairs, while Hiro and I worked on the more legal items above. Currently I was shifting around some rather pesky bottles of different cognacs, trying to make room for a newer brand, while Hiro faced some new jewelry pieces into the glass cabinet. _Chert,_ why do they need to make the bottles so decorative? Sure they look nice in a bar set, but trying to fit all these different shapes onto a shelf was nearly impossible. Glaring at the offending bottles, the name of a brand of whiskey jutted out to me.

 _Kozlov,_ I scrunched my face up, pondering that particular name. One of my old contacts had that name, and he supplied me with only the purest vodka that made true Sovmans wince. I hadn't heard from him in awhile, which was not standard. Kozlov loved to get together and reminisce about the motherland, and got rather enthusiastic whenever one of those bottles got involved. Glancing back at the amount of work I had left, perhaps a visit to the old man wasn't such a bad idea. _Bog_ knows I'd probably need a drink to get through the rest of the shelf, so why not make it a good one.

"Ayo, Hiro, I'm heading out," I called out to the boy behind the counter.

"Hai hai Rebecca-Sama! I shall finish facing the pretties, and then make sure each of the forbidden juices has a home!"

"Ah, but remember.."

"Never place an exploding epenling next to a bottle of Clear!" stated the teen stoically. "We would not want a repeat of last time, right Rebecca-sama."

"Hai hai, Hiro, I'll return late. Don't wait up."

乄Бల❌乄

Approaching Kozlov's shabby looking apartment, I would assume that most would not believe the amount of treasures the geezer had tucked away inside. Only those with a trained eye, developed over years of picking out the important little details, would pick up on the fact the each of the windows and locks were basically thief proof, the chain on the door was Brigton military grade, and that there were booby traps nearly everywhere leading up to every entrance except the front door.

Despite all of this being in place, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. Whether the air was too still, or because Kozlov's familiar polka wasn't playing from his music machine, I couldn't tell. My instincts told me to be aware of my surroundings, and despite approaching the dilapidated entry with the look of complete nonchalance, I was very ready for anything.

I gave the dark red door three sharp raps with a knuckle, while one hand remained near a blade.

"Kozlov...? Kozlov?"

When no answer was returned I knew something was amiss. The master merchant was always back by six pm sharp, something an old ex wife forced him into long ago, and the habit seemed to have stuck. I cautiously pulled the door open, and peered inside. Darkness greeted me, and something else...sniffing the air curiously I knew that I had smelled this smell before, not very recently, but I did remember it from somewhere...

Venturing further into the inner sanctum of the messy merchant I observed overturned chairs in the parlor, some of the pillows were split open, their downy feathers spilling onto the amber planks beneath them. My guard raised I continued past the parlor and the stairs leading upstairs, I made my way into the narrow hallway connecting the kitchen to the front end of the house. The smell seemed to be originating from there, the scent getting stronger as my steps got closer to the cream door that blocked my entrance.

"Kozlov? Where are you?" I asked, hoping he would answer, and I was rewarded with a small gasp and gurgle.

Suddenly I placed the coppery smell, it was blood. And not just a little bit of it could create such an olfactory stimulus. Not bothering with the door's antiqued handle, I gave the frame a solid kick and it burst open. I took in the scene in front of my and deduced my own conclusion.

My contact was laying in a pool of his own blood, and the clear signs of torture that marred his shirtless frame, brought my own blood to a boil. Quickly I grabbed one of the towels hanging off of his oven and started to clean and stanch his wounds.

"Kozlov! Kozlov can you hear me? Don't you dare ignore me you sorry son of a suka!"

Underneath my hands I felt his broad chest rumble, and all I had time to do was close my eyes as a spray of arterial spray hit my face in response to his violent cough. When he was done he opened the familiar crystalline eyes I loved to see.

"Wouldn't dream of it sweetheart," He said with a grimace. "Though if ya wanted ta see me bare chested, I wished you would've just asked."

His joking was lost on me as I ran to get some water, and more towels. Grabbing one of the many bowls stacked in the sink and quickly filling it with warm water, I rushed back to his side just as he was attempting to sit up.

"Stay down you big _glupyy!_ " I hissed as I pushed down on a portion of his chest covered in the least amount of slices. Someone had definitely gone over him with a trained hand. Each wound was just deep enough to inflict maximum pain, while ensuring that the victim stayed conscious and able to answer questions.

"Dermo, my friend, I'm not lookin ta best right now, but for the love Bog, get me a drink, and I swear I'll feel just a bit better."

"Koz, you're going to need to the whole bottle to look half as good as usual," I said while gently wiping off most of the dried on blood.

"Oh come on Bexxzie..."

"But since you asked so nicely, I'll be happy to supply the bottle," I said smirking, "If you provide the information."

"That's my favorite fence," he wheezed out while I sat back on my ankles. "Just make it the good stuff, we'll be here awhile."

乄Бల❌乄

Fifteen minutes, three rolls of gauze, and six ounces of pure Sovma vodka later Kozlov was ready to talk.

"Honestly don't know where the little suka came from. One minute I'm sitting for my evening drag, the next I got a butterfly tickler pressed against my fuckin neck. Not even sure how he got in, none of my tricks went off."

"So you're saying he was not just trained, but a master of the craft." I surmised while staring at my still full shot glass.

"No _suka_ , he even knew right where to hit to make me to be as defenseless as a precious little babe."

"He knew where your pressure point was? Why would he waste time and go for that?"

Kozlov gave a grunt.

"Well I would assume it was because he didn't want me moving very much while he was carving away at my ribcage, but that's only a guess," Koz quipped. Smirking he poured himself another shot and shoved the bottle towards my side of the small table. "Drinking alone is no fun Bexxzie, I'd rate it up there with being tortured for a few hours on end."

"Hmm... considering all of the nights you hit the bottle after what's her face left, I'm pretty sure you can manage."

"Jesu, sweetheart, did I ever mention how lovely you can be when you're fully sober?"

"No, but maybe you can mention why some trained master broke into your home unnoticed and decided to shave off some of your chest hair?" I pondered, trying to get the old guy to at least get on track before he was too far gone.

"All business with you, as per usual."

"..."

"Da, da, don't be too much of a drinking druz, I'll talk. Not sure I'll remember everything the sukahead asked."

" _Try._ "

"Look he hit my neck, tied my hands behind the back, and sliced through my last halfway decent collared shirt."

" _Kozlov..."_

"I hear ya, such a shame to, such fine thread perfectly wasted..."

My hands hit the table with a slam that matched the crack of my chair hitting the floor as I rose from my seat. Crouching down I gave the merchant the look that could kill him faster than any of the plentiful blades I kept on my persons. I would not spend my night playing games, I wanted information.

As if finally sensing how seriously ticked off I was, Koz decided he was done wasting my time, and dropped the sarcastic pretense.

"He starting asking questions, Bex. Questions about who I sell to, and what my present ties were to Sovma."

"Present ties? How would h..."

"Oh the little bastard knew all about me and my past. Right down to my hometown, when I left Sovma, even Anja."

"So he knows everything about you?"

"Everything before Brigton."

I picked up my chair, and dropped rather gracelessly back into it.

"Well shit," I mused, before shooting back my entire shot.

"You're telling me. He knew things about me that I didn't even know! The only thing he seemed hell bent on finding out though, was who I was selling through since I began business in the lovely city of Brigton. Got more than a few scratchies for that particular question."

Thinking about what the implications of having my name tied to the black market dealer, and what it could mean for my business and career as the Procurer of the underworld, the effects of the vodka went straight to my stomach. Just what the ad was going on? What was this master playing at?

"Don't worry druz, the slicey bastard got nothin out of me. I know how to keep my mouth shut."

I slipped my eyes closed and snorted.

"Only when you're sober, dummkopf."

"Right as usual, Bexxzie," the merchant said as he made his way to fill up our glasses one more time. "Perhaps if he had loosened me up I would have been happier to let something slip for him to stop with the slicey slicey."

Throwing back the liquid, I rose from my chair and headed towards the middle of the room, right underneath the old chandelier that Anja had hung long ago and kneeled down to find a familiar knot in the planks. Lifting the hatch to the secret passageways out of Kozlov's lair I turned to face him one last time. His eyes didn't leave the bottle in front of him as he spoke his parting words,

"I didn't tell that little suka _nothing_ Revekka, but I'd be careful out there. The nights are getting more and more dangerous, even for those of us who frequent the shadows."

"You too Koz. You too." I then vanished through the floorboards, and made my way to navigate back to my own shop via the tunnel system Kat used. _Something is not right, I can feel the storm brewing._

Glossary-

Orokana: silly

druz'ya: friends

baka ne: idiot

Bog: God

gomene: sorry

nanda: what/what the hell

temi: bastard

chert: damn

ojiichan: old man/grandpa

suka: bitch

idiot: glupyy

ad: hell

dumkopf: dumbass


	5. Another Player to the Game 2

Another Player to the Game...

Part Two

 _Finally. Done. No more boxes to hideaway, now how to get down..._ I thought as I contemplated the slight drop from the top of the curio cabinet that I was currently standing on top of. Storing the boxes of items that Bex wanted put away for later inventory took longer and required more energy than I had wanted to spend on the mind numbing task. But when you live in someone's basement for free, you do crazy things for them.

Deciding that the quickest way to get down was to go ahead and jump, I released the built up pressure in my joints and slipped off the edge, landing in a perfect crouch, my ripped tunic dancing around me and my worn black boots silent. Straightening and putting my hands on my hips, I leaned back and was rewarded with the delightful sensation of each of my vertebrae popping. _Much better._ The basement lair seemed quite empty without anyone occupying the space, the rows of merchandise leading to the door were cryptic, and the area was somewhat morbid with the leftovers from this morning laying out with no one to eat them. I passed my target practice corner and released a sigh as I fished out one of the sebons I tucked into one of my three dreadlocks. _How utterly boring._ Never one to miss a bullseye, I gave myself a pat on the back, _Good job little one, perhaps another?_ thinking back to when my Master would say the very same thing.

The target gave a resounding thud as my kunai slammed it back into the wall behind it, and the sound echoed throughout the vacant space. That was one memory lane I would not be visiting any time soon. Heading back towards the table, I rested my hands on the chair that Bex usually occupied, the one across from where Brielle sat, and where I typically laid on my banister.

Apparently the Procurer of the Underworld meant to be gone for more than a few drinks, because she'd been gone for a few hours since I checked in with Hiro. Not that I really cared, I had plenty of things to keep myself busy with. Like training, or messing with Hiro-chan...or finally unraveling the secret that was Brielle Greysilk. I rubbed my hands together with anticipation, I loved playing a good game of "who are you really."

XXXXX

Just becauses Kat was a freelance assassin did not mean she did not know who or what assassins and guilds had influence, and since transplanting to the fine city of Brigton with Bex, Kat had made it a personal goal of sorts to keep up with old _friends._ She liked knowing secrets, about anything or anyone, and the fact that Brielle was still one she hadn't played through yet drove her into the slums of Brigton. The assassin wanted to see what she could gather from _friends_ of a similar career path. Most of the secrets shared were given freely, it built good business to be a little chatty, but sometimes the Hand had to play a little bloody.

" _Kuso_ , do you have to hit that _kutabare_ hard?"

Kat gave the spidery man she had just shoved into the solid brick wall a cheshire smile. He couldn't possibly see it, her mask blocking the view of her pearly whites, but her glittering eyes gave it away."

"You're enjoying this a little too much _Handsy._ Here I thought we had a relationship going for us..."

A very elegant sort of snort escaped her lips, and she pressed her smaller frame closer to the man in black, while placing a sai in a place that would keep a man very still.

"Takeshi we only have a _relationship,_ " she purred, "when both of us go home satisfied. And right now I am not. In. The. _slightest."_ each of her words were accented with increasing pressure on the tip of her sai, and pulling his pale face down to hers.

Black eyes met Hazel in a battle of wills, the game of who would crack first was on.

Kat narrowed her eyes to slits and finally put enough pressure on her blade to pierce the skin of Takeshi's upper thigh.

"Alight alight alight!"

The Assassin Guild had really let its' members wilt. She didn't even have to bring out any of her other toys. _So disappointing._

" It's true I went on a job last week to the household of Lord Thomas Ayre, and that I ran into the charming bachelor and the Doll of Brigton enjoying a nightcap, but I sure as hell didn't wait around to see what would happen after they left for the bedroom stuff...though Greysilk isn't so ba..."

 _L_ _ooks like he needs a little more persuading…_

Kat trailed her gloved hand across the skinny assassins chest in a mockery of seduction,

"Must I repeat myself Shishi?" Kat asked sickly sweet. The metal plaited tips stroking just deep enough to drive home a point.

"I want the details of Greysilk's evening. _Every_ aspect, what she was talking about, drinking, touching, kissing. Not all of us would duck on a job just because a little contact between a whore and her escort made them uncomfortable."

The man on the wall bristled at the knock at his shoddy skills as an assassin.

"Oh _kutabare,_ not everyone works like you do. Personally I just like to get in, kill or take what I need, and get out. You are the one who takes it further and wants a connection with the people that you cross off, I heard you even say a prayer for their departed souls. Hoping that they'll great cha with open arms in the afterlife assasshin?"

At first, it looked like the assassin wanted to glide her blade through the man's femoral artery, but she restrained herself, and her eyes turned playful and her head cocked to the side. She leaned forward and onto her tip toes, forcing Takeshi upright.

Her dreadlocks escaped from where they had been hidden in her hood, and before he could register just what had happened, Takeshi felt a sudden prick on his neck. Kat returned her sebon to its' specific strand of rusty brown hair, and placed her gloved hand on Takeshi's rapidly paling cheek.

"You talk too much," she said simply, shoving him down next to the dumpster and turned to leave. "And not about anything I really want to play with." The Hand flipped her worn hood up to cover her her entire face when she heard a wheeze from Takeshi.

"Funny, that's what _he_ said after he wanted information abo..about Ayre," Takeshi sighed dramatically.

"Hmm, so you're not just chatting to me? Shishi, I feel so _betrayed._ "

"Well not all of us can make a few hundred thousand rins by knocking off one rich playboy, plus his mini scythe-dusterhand-held combo was _quite convincing."_

At Takeshi's specific weapon description, the assassin stopped her departure from the abandoned alley. That was a very difficult weapon to use. The small handheld didn't have very good accuracy, unless the user knew their way around the gun, and putting a curved blade on the bottom of an extended handle would not be very effective in the hands of a novice. Kat could only name a few people who used the distance-close range killing duo efficiently, and each of those assassins would not be in Brigton... _could not_ _be in Brigton.._ _oh Kami._

She ran back to the slumped figure on the ground, grabbing him by his own worn all black shadow gear.

"What was the handle like?!"

"Wha..What?"

"Was there anything on the handle, like an animal!?"

Takeshi's glazed eyes could barely stay open. Maybe she shouldn't have used such a fast acting toxin, but at least she knew it was effective. Determining that Takeshi needed more motivation to answer, she slapped him. The leather made solid contact, and he registered the question and spit out one word before the toxin overtook him.

 _"Dra...gon."_

Kat leaned back onto her heels, her hands clasped together in a prayer pose close to her lips. The trails of her coat fluttered beneath her, and her hood cast a shadow across her entire face. That was not the answer she was looking for. The mystery of Brielle would have to wait.

Sprinting out of the alleyway, she pried open the cover to the closest sewer drain, and slipped into the shadows. The Curator had to know. There was _another player._

/-/-/-/

I sensed Bex entering the lair before I could hear or see her. The air circulating the room seemed to shift, and I knew then that the curator had returned. Opening my eyes and twisting on my beam I could only hope that she wasn't too drunk. _Kami,_ that one time in Erskine... just thinking about all the men I had to save from Bex's righteous fists, or sharp tongue was enough to send myself into self-imposed seclusion.

The freaking fence seemed to sense my apprehension, as she sighed and slumped rather gracelessly into her usual dark chair at the head of the table.

"You can come down Kat, I won't bite..."

"Seriously? Because there was that one time..."

"Bah, the Dummkopf had it coming, not my fault."

"Sure thing Fency, sure thing."

Bex snorted at the nickname, but it lacked its usual fire. I sat, opened my eyes and rolled over to see what sort of state she was in, and nearly fell off my banister for the second time today.

She was covered in blood. From the tailored sleeves of her jacket, to her skin tight leather trews. Everything was saturated with the red liquid, there was some even dripping from the long train from her jacket. I smoothly rolled off my banister, and resumed my lotus pose on the table top. Bex slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and bringing her hands covered in dried life juice to her face.

"Soooo...interesting night out?" I started off with teasingly.

"You could say that."

"Care to elaborate _Rebecca Darling_?"

At the use of the courtesan's nickname for her, Bex peeked up with one eyebrow raised and I could tell there was a ghost of a smirk on her lips. _Thank Kami._

A few seconds of silence hung in the air, and then Bex leapt to her feet. My eyebrows rose, but I remained where I was while I watched my friend begin to pace. After a few rounds to clear her head, she paused abruptly and stood right in front of me.

"Someone attacked Kozlov."

I leaned back onto my palms, and let out an impressed whistle. Whoever did that _was_ impressive, even _The Hand_ would find it a challenge to get into the odd trader's home…

"They were good too, they had him down in one hit, and the torture was very strategic - meant to cause pain, not death. Must have been a Master Thief, or Assassin. I still can't decide which," Bex continued, walking and resting her arms on the back of her throne-like chair.

Something about Kozlov being tortured, Takeshi being beat down, and my gut churning, made me have a moment of clarity.

"Oh they are an assassin alright," I said with stunning confidence.

Bex looked up, and my eyes locked with hers. She saw my unwavering stance.

"Yeah? And how are you so sure?"

"Just a little something a little birdie whispered in my ear," I trailed off handedly.

Recognizing my code words for information seeking, Bex walked around and crumbled back into the chair.

"You went snooping for info on Brielle, didn't you."

My Master always said never answer a question that would incriminate you, instead question it.

"Hmm... is that what I did?" I asked innocently.

Not buying it at all, Bex looked up to the sky for guidance.

"Dammit Kat, can't you let that lie? We have bigger problems than the past of a high paid Courtesan."

"So it would seem, though I'm not sure Brielle would appreciate you un-importaning her like that."

"She can deal. The real question is: Can we?"

My eyes met hers again, and the gravity of this entire situation weighed in on both of us. Considering there was a Master Assassin loose, asking questions about Ayre, and torturing Kozlov about his sources and buyers...yeah, _kuzo_ was about to go down.

"Considering I have almost no idea why someone is poking around our neck of the City, with a Master no less, I'm going to have to say that is to be determined."

The Fence merely quirked a brow at me, so I elaborated.

"I think I know where the _Teme_ is going to make an appearance next, so I'd say we'll know if we have a problem in...oh about 48 hours."

Realization dawned on Bex's face; no one could ever say she wasn't quick.

"You seriously think they'll show up to Hasselton's ball?"

"Of course," I responded while walking my hands out in front of me, stretching my back in a feline sort of way. "The man with the most power is hosting a party, who wouldn't want to show up and enjoy the festivities."

"Kat.."

"Oh and every District Lord and their most important retainers will be there too! Simply a perfect time to canoodle one into a quiet corner and get a little personal eh?" I rolled back up to see Bex staring right through me.

Being the _adult_ I am, and hating being ignored, I somersaulted myself directly in front of my dearly distracted friend. Her eyebrows up this close gave away how worried she was about this entire ordeal. I hadn't seen the Procurer look so worn out, well not in a long while,

"It would be for the best if I found this _Teme_ and discussed some proper business with him. Perhaps it's a simple misunderstanding about goods and wares, and they were hired to sort everything out..."

"As much as I wish it was that Kat, I'm sure there is more to it than that. This guy turns up after we have the Gangu massacred, the list nearly completed, tortures a client, and starts asking about a District Lord." Bex released a calculated sigh. "There's too much happening here for this to be a simple misunderstanding."

"Either way, we'll know if we need to start running," I joked.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Bex answered reminiscently.

"At least this time it wouldn't be through five feet of snow."

"Just bodies of Lordlings men I suppose," she retorted.

"Now that's more like it. Bodies over snow drifts any day in my book."

Finally Bex cracked one of her cheshire grins, her eyes lighting up with mirth.

"That's one seriously messed up story Kat."

I smiled right back at her. Laughing quietly, the Fence rose from her chair and started to make her way to where we had showers hidden away.

"Good thing you're in it too!" I shouted out to her.

"Kitty-chan, I'm a co-author," she said disappearing behind one of the midnight curtains, and moments later I could hear water spilling from the tap.

 _Wouldn't have it any other way._

 _XXXXX_

While most of the city was busy getting ready for the ball that High Lord Hasselton was throwing, a select few were meeting for entirely different reasons. Most of the cities patrons were content with their current affairs and supported their High Lord with his decisions, however there was a sect that was not entirely pleased with the current rulers. They felt that Hasselton was too lenient with the Theodosian uprisings in the countryside, and that he was not utilizing the assets of the gifted to Brigton's full potential.

This sect had been around almost from the very beginning of the creation of Brigton, but only in recent years were the starting to make moves outside the underground. Moves that they were using the Gyangu to accomplish. Now, with the muscle of the group wiped out, they were looking for retribution, but not the kind that brought Hasselton or the Uricha to their doors.

Hence why some covert plays had to be made, and hiring the master assassin from the guild of Sovma was necessary. Recently more and more of the sect's followers had been turning up dead, which concerned their leader. Was someone onto them,, or was it something entirely different? Not one for surprises he hired the Master Assassin to find out, and all the clues that he had gathered in the past two weeks led to the conclusion that something was going to happen at the ball.

Thinking about the number of witnesses and the potential threat that exposure had, the leader felt he needed to remind his killer of the consequences that being indiscrete posed.

"There will be more eyes than usual; being subtle in your attempts to answer my questions is key in tonight's operation."

"Of _cours_ _e_ Master-sama. When am I not?" the shadow asked, coming out of his hiding spot and stepping into the parlors flickering fireplace light.

Swishing the drink in his goblet, the slightly older Lord laughed.

"What happened to Kozlov is not what I would call _subtle_ Harbinger."

"Perhaps not, but it was fun. And it served its purpose."

"Which was..."

The young man snapped some ammo into his deadly gun, the scythe glittering in the firelight and the dragon desiring more blood.

"A message to a _dear_ old friend."

"And this friend, they will know something about the Gyangu?"

Stepping back into the shadows, the assassin pulled closed his black cloak, and threw on his blood red mask.

"If my hunch is correct, they are right in the middle of it."

The Lord's eyes glittered with restrained anticipation. He could taste his impending revenge.

"Just remember..."

The fire suddenly went out and the well dressed man felt a presence right behind his chair.

" _Be subtle."_

Then the assassin was gone, and the fire came back to life. If that was his form of subtlety, than tomorrow was going to be interesting.

XXXXX

The day of the ball had Bex's shop in an uproar, with Hiro-chan dancing around trying to maintain the peace.

"I think you're being a complete _Dumbkopf!"_

"And I think that you're just pissed!"

"Ahhhh... I believe that both of you are quite..."

"Damn right I'm pissed! You're not listening to me! You're jumping right into this guy's play!"

"You don't think I know that? Just how idiotic do you take me for?!"

...

"Rebecca-sama, Kitty-chan..."

"Pretty idiotic if you think that going tonight is a good idea," Bex finished while slamming the cash drawer closed on the iron machine.

Kat planted her hands on the counter, while Hiro paced in the background. The store was closed up for the day, and she was ready to head out to the ball, when her Fence let her feelings of unease surface. They had been going at it for at least an hour, and finally Kat felt they were finally making headway into why Bex was so hesitant.

"I think you're more pissed off that you can't go. And it bothers you that you won't be able to avenge Kozlov, and you're projecting all your angst to me in the hopes that it will make you feel better."

Bex had nothing to say to that. The assassin had hit her mark.

Kat took a long inhale and looked up to her friend.

"I know you want to be the one to do this, and I'm not saying that you couldn't - _shouldn't_ , it just... Bex...this guy he isn't one to fuck around with."

Something dawned on the Procureur.

"You know them...don't you? You know who attacked Kozlov."

"Yes."

"You _know_ them!?" Bex seethed, "And that's _all_ I get? Kat, seriously..."

Kat made her way to the back door and tugged on her cloak, slipped the worn mask up to her nose, and covered her plaited hair with her hood. This was going to be an eventful evening and she needed to get her head into game, not getting into a conversation about her past with Bex.

Pausing just before the mysterious door, she knew she had to make it up to the Fence.

"I'll tell you more when I get back, but just know that he was a friend, and is now _my_ problem."

"Well _your_ problem just attacked _my_ friend." Bex spat back, her anger just beginning to simmer over her usually tempered level..

The Fence leaned back onto the back counter as she watched her friend slip into the basement. She had mix feelings about what Kat had said. Though she was slightly jealous she couldn't seek retribution for Kozlov, she was feeling more worried for two of her few friends that would be attending the ball. The ball she couldn't be at. Bex let a frustrated groan slip out, and Hiro came to the rescue.

"It will be ok Rebecca-sama. Kitty chan will watch out for Brielle-san, and she will get the answers we need."

"Still can't help but feel a little off about tonight..."

"I'll make us tea! Tea will help calm us!" the youngster beckoned while running to the kitchen off the store front.

"Better make it a little stronger, just in case." Bex called after him.

"Rebecca-sama! It's not even 3pm!"

"Your point..." Bex released a smirked.

"Ah...HAI HAI!"

/-/-/-/

Not to sound too arrogant, but sneaking into the High Lord's grand castle was way easier than ever. Apparently the guards were so focused on protecting the individual Lord's and the High Lord himself that they forgot how easy it was to sneak up a shadowed terrace, slip through a window, dodge a few silly servants, and stake out a spot on the balcony overlooking the entire ballroom. From where I was sitting, the grandeur of Hasselton's mansion was visible in every gold-plated chandelier, the sea of gem encrusted banquet tables, and the god awful harpies that were mingling below.

It made me disgusted.

What I could see were people who didn't care that all the riches they possessed came from squashing a separate country, an entire culture, beneath them. That people had to die, be forced off their lands, to make way for Brigton's own innovation for success. I may only be half Theodosian, but I like to think that it's that half of me that is the morally coded one, and seeing these peacocks strut their feathers _irritated_ me to no end.

I watched as Hasselton gave a toast, his fine navy blue coat matching well with the midnight touches around the room. His beautiful wife sitting all perfect with their darling children all present. Not a single Theodosian in sight, where once there was plenty.

 _Hold up, scratch that thought._

Off to the left of where the family was dining I noticed a splash of caramel skin, and realized that was where Brielle was sitting. _What a glorious representation of the motherland._ She sat in a colorful dress, with silk spun to look like a Theodosian kimono, but with the style being completely western. The bodice was cut trimmed to her...assets, the bottom flaring out, and the skin of her shoulders exposed except for what the familiar grey shawl covered.

I couldn't help but grin. Props to the Doll who is brave enough to make a subtle jab at the strumpets in their own home. Even when she isn't permitted to sit at the same table as her client. Glancing up to where Hasselton and his family were seated, I analyzed the teen. The young Hasselton looked very much like his father, and also looked very eager to get his hands on Brielle, his eyes never straying far from the lady in silk. Not for the first time since meeting the Doll was I conflicted about her, how could she stand being around so many people who provided significant means, to destroying her homeland?

I watched the comings and goings of the ball for a while longer, waiting for the schmoozing and dinner to be over, and also keeping an eye open for my own target of the evening. Usually I didn't have to wait this long for the little bastard, he liked to make his appearance rather dramatically and early on.

A young dancer I recognized as Lady Erianna of the Moderow family, the ones referred to as the luminescent tinkerers, approached the son of Lord LaFontaine of the Fifth District. Both families were unlike their flippant peers, and generally strived to restore a balance of power between the native Theodosians, and themselves. I would be routing for the charming couple as I watched them start to swirl and blend into the sea of dancers on the topaz floor.

A slight whisper of fabric behind me, and I knew that my target finally showed up.

" _Katia_."

I turned around slowly at the sound of my name, it being muffled from the mask that he wore.

"Neko."

Feeling the grin from the cheeky bastard was enough to set me off, but I reigned in myself, reminded of Bex's warning of falling right into this guys play. He had something up his sleeve, especially since he waited to make an appearance after dessert was being served.

"It's been too long lovely, and for us to meet like this? Huddled on a dark balcony, shadowed from all the drama below."

I rolled my eyes as I slowly stretched up to my feet.

"I wouldn't exactly call Lordlings and their rat racers drama, and if I remember correctly you were the one who left without a note to remember you by."

"Oooo, the kitty still has bite! Don't sound so cut up my friend, it was years ago."

The cheeky bastard though he could just smooth talk his way out of this huh? I placed my hands near my hip holsters, just in case this talk turned interesting.

"It's hard to forget a friend who bails on you, especially when you're facing the entire Sovman Assassin Guild's wrath."

"Ha. You make one slight mistake, hit the wrong target and everyone gets pulled into a tizzy," Neko commented while strutting around to the railing I was leaning back on. He looked out over the sea of dancers and other ball patrons,

"One mistake, and you get tossed out. And someone new comes and takes your place...It's just not fair _Han_ _dsy_."

So he did know my moonlighting name. That would make this conversation less abrupt.

"Life isn't Neko, what made you think the Guild would be?"

I saw the familiar grin on his face fade through his mask.

"Not sure, but it did make it so interesting now didn't it."

He had dropped the nonchalant tone. _Great._

"I don't know, sometimes I feel like it gets too interesting, Like torturing random Brigton city guild thieves, or confronting a major black market dealer in his own home..."

I trailed off, letting my words speak for the allegation itself, all the while watching for slight ticks in the mask that covered his face. I was rewarded with nothing but a slight head tilt.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special don't cha, Kitty Kat? What, you like doing your research on me?"

I gave a shrug and turned to face him,

"I like to know what's new in the neighborhood. The common thread of your weapon and style made putting the pieces together all too easy,"

"Aww, I'm flattered love. You really do remember me."

"Hard to forget the asshole who walks out on you.'

"Well I'm back now..."

"And I'm not too sure how I feel about that,"

The male didn't seem too cut up about my honesty, in fact he seemed to be expecting it.

"How's this sound, I made sure to return the favor. Your style isn't that hard to figure out either."

I tensed. What the nanda did that mean?

"Neko..."

We never got a chance to finish our conversation because alarm bells started to blare, and by the time I had recovered from the surprise he was gone, but not without leaving a calling card.

 _Have fun with the sheriff. I heard he is an actual delight_

 _N._

Kami-sama. _He really went and did now didn't he._ I could hear the guard members closing in on my location. He probably had this set up from the beginning, to lead them right to us, and escape in the confusion

"Well shit..."

()()()

I knew that the young Hasselton would not be able to hold out long, as soon as I had walked into the family's chamber before the ball, his eyes had not left my presence. Granted the ensemble that I had selected for the evening gave a great showcase to my breasts, however, I could feel that it would not take long into the dance portion of the ball for him to make excuses.

Excuses that led the respectable young man and I up to the abandoned library. Away from the chaos that was downstairs, hidden from wandering eyes who just wanted to catch a glimpse of our maiden evening together. Honestly, I could care less. The more eyes that viewed our _momentous_ departure, the more whispers that got spread, and the more famous I got. Hard to imagine where I would be if people did not gossip about Brielle Greysilk. Or dream about the latest rumor that they heard about her while at the latest district meeting. Even desire for an evening together.

Well I certainly knew I would not be in the High Lord's palace, tucked away on one of the private couches in the large library filled with such knowledge.

I felt a sloppy kiss on my neck.

And I would not be with the heir to Brigton, trying to seduce me out of my beloved silk.

I shifted so that I was curled into his frame, one of my hands reaching behind his neck to tug at the slight pony tail of golden mane hidden there, while my other framed his charming face. The tan of my skin was an interesting contrast to his creamy tone.

Guiding his head back, and maneuvering into a straddle over his lap, I could hear his intake of breath and nearly felt the tremor that rippled through his chest. I smirked into his neck, reciprocating his sloppy seduction effortlessly. His artery beneath my lips was beating so fast, his breath becoming more raspy by the second. I wondered what would happen when I really got him going...

Well knowledge by trial had always been my go-to for figuring out how these pompadours enjoyed their free time, so my hand traveled south from his gorgeous cheekbone down to his chest at an achingly slow pace, making sure to caress whatever it pleased. A sensitive patch near the thorax, the dip above the clavicle, perhaps the flat plane of his sternum.

My administrations were doing their job, as shown by the relaxed state he was in. His head was rolled back, his arms encircling my waist were clasped loosely, and his crystalline eyes were on me.

 _Wond_ _erful._

"Brielle... please..."

I stopped his stammering with a swift attack to his lips. I covered his for a moment, letting him savor the exotic flavor that my lip tint provided, before I pulled back. Bringing both hands to in front of me, I fussed around the folds in my dress before successfully finding the jacket to his suit coat. I inspected the coppery colored buttons, then pushed him back further into the couch and resumed my assault. The poor young fellow did not stand a chance. I had his hands digging into my hair, and I used his movement to help coax off the jacket. Tossing it to the carpeted floor, it landed with a muffle that resounded through the quiet shelves of books.

He looked up with eagerness as he realized that the first article was stripped off. Wearing his own smirk now, he pulled at the shawl haphazardly wrapped around my shoulders.

"An eye for an eye Ms. Greysilk."

 _Charmer._

"Is that so Master James?"

"Hmm..."

He tried tugging again, and while doing so I checked out the muscles in his forearms that lead to very large hands with no such adornment on them. Not a single ring or token to be seen. Alas, you know what they say about large hands...

I easily took control of the situation, had my hands wrapped around his wrists, and pulled his arms apart before he knew what hit him. Leaning in close, and giving the Jamsey an eyeful that he would never forget I whispered to him,

"I don't fight fair with you _Akuma..."_ I purred.

"Oh really."

Smirking once again, I pressed up nice and close to him. I removed my hands and placed them on his face, holding his attention, forcing him to look at me.

"Really. Now sit back, relax, and let your _wildest dreams come true..."_ the last part of my sentence coming out as a slight whisper, that seemed to dance in between the space between us.

"Dreams...come...truuuu..."

He was out before the last word escaped his mouth, and I could feel his heart start to flutter as it all took hold of him. Living out exactly what his dream showed him.

I took a few moments to collect myself, and then gracefully untangled my limbs from his still trembling ones. If one thought for a moment that I would waste a chance at snooping through High Lord Hasselton's library, they would be so wrong. As I started to explore the nearest shelf I heard the faint murmurs and groans coming from the couch. I laughed silently, my peach tinted lips smiling. At least I knew the kid was enjoying himself.

Perhaps I had cleared the first shelf or two, slipping a few of the titles that stood out to me in specifically designed slits in my dress, before I heard a scuffle at the doors leading into library.

No one would really want to get into the abandoned room, especially since the guards outside _knew_ who occupied it. However, none of that mattered as I heard the double doors give way, and slight footsteps making their way back to where James was.

 _Drat, Tsumi's Tales will have to wait until next time._

I picked up my train and sprinted back to the couches, ruffling my dress and untucking James's shirt, only to look up and see one of the few people I expected to.

"You have got to be kidding me" I whispered,

"Hi, Hello, Handsy here to meet you," she blurted out. "Now while I knew you to be Dull, I didn't really expect you to put 'em to sleep Dollface."

I rolled my eyes at her comment. Her outfit was disheveled, and she was running out of breath. Something made her sprint hard and fast to find her way into this room, something like...

"They went this way!"

"Cut through the library!"

I prickled, the wraith had led the guard to my doorstep so to speak.

The footsteps of these men were more pronounced than Kat's and I knew we had but moments to figure something out.

I hesitated at what I was about to say - to give away - but if I was found linked with the Hand again, there was no way I could turn back from that. Facing the creature of the night I departed some knowledge.

"Do you see that painting, the one with the maiden and the Dragon painted on it?"

"You mean the one that has _Kindan no Ai_ gathering dust by that ugly ass sconce?"

I was shocked Kat knew the old Theodosian tale, but recovered quickly.

"Yes, if you go to it and whisper _ah shi teru_ it will open up a tunnel that will get you out of here."

"I am _not_ telling a painting I love it...come on putaro!"

A crash resounded through the library as a clumsy guard tripped over a stool in the aisle next to us.

"Though I'm not above saying it to myself!"

I watched as she took three steps and stopped abruptly. What the hell was she doing, she had to get out of here...!

"Brielle...what about you?"

I had never heard the Hand of Brigton sound so concerned, but as my client shivered in trance beneath me, I realized I could handle a few more chumps before the night was through.

"Go on, if you think I cannot distract a few Dansei, you insult my career."

She snorted at that and resumed her escape, I saw her pause briefly at the painting mentioned, before it parted and she slipped through the tunnel I knew would be there.

As soon as the Hand had departed, I went back to making my appearance perfect. Tugging out a few hair pins here, shrugging a shoulder sleeve there, and draping myself into James's body, I knew exactly when the men had reached us. Their intakes of breath nearly as adorable as his. I remained still as they made their approach, and managed to only startle slightly when I heard that familiar voice.

"Rogers, hang back and check on Culley and Bryce. Conner you are with me."

Just my luck. The _Uricha_ was in attendance.

§ § § § §

I stared at my friend. That is all I could think about doing. She had just explained to me the events of the evening and I was a little shocked and still fuming that she even went in the first place. For a moment anyway.

"So let me get this in order. You ran into your old guild buddy - "

"Ex guild buddy," Kat cut in.

" _Ex_ guild buddy, drew the attention of the entire palace guard - "

At this the Assassin rolled her eyes.

"When you say _entire_ , I find that to be a bit of an exagger - "

"So you scurried into the library and _happened_ upon Brielle,"

"Who appeared quite comfortable if you know what I mean..."

"And you proceeded to leave her there alone. To handle your mess."

Kat simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Seemed like she could handle it."

" _Handle it?_ Dammit Kat, she shouldn't have had to do anything! God forbid Uricha actually decides to do something with her this time!" I snapped at her.

"Well I wouldn't put it past him, she looked pretty appealing with her bedroom eyes, though technically they would be library eyes wouldn't they? That's not to say I was attracted to her or anything - we've pretty much established this relationship..."

The assassin's prattling did nothing to soothe my last nerve. If Brielle really had been locked up by the Sheriff there would be so much owed. Thinking of all the precious cargo I would have to give away, I visibly drooped.

Kat came over to my chair and rested her hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright Bexy, just make sure you open up the cases with the good stuff when she comes over."

I shrugged her hand off and gathered myself. Maybe a personal visit would lessen the affect. Or Brielle's materialistic wrath. I found my familiar waistcoat and pulled it on, thinking over Kat's idea.

"Whatever she takes should come out of your check..."

Up from the banisters (rafters) I heard a peal of laughter.

"You start paying me Fence, you can have it."

§ § § § §

The roof of Brielle's building was quiet, so I knew immediately when she walked through the terraces gate. The elevators chime echoed throughout the vines and fauna. I looked up to see my friend looking a bit lost. Her beautiful silk gown still looked wonderful, but her face gave away the stress that she had gone through.

She pulled her shawl closer to her shoulders, and made her way around the potted plants to the outlook I was leaning back on.

"Well that was a fun night. How was yours?" She asked, while tugging a plum off the tree over-shadowing us.

"I'm not sure you're really interested in how Hiro attempts to cheer me up."

She took a bite out of the petite fruit, and swallowed before answering.

"I'll admit I was shocked to hear that you were not there."

I looked at her confused, and seeing this she continued.

"I was walked through the entire evening's attendance by my good friend Uchiha. He's pretty hell bent on finding out who the Hand is tied to. Imagine sitting in the library with that man just flipping through a list of names, always asking questions like: Who is this? Have you seen them? Were they meeting in the library?"

A small smile slipped and tugged at my lips which Brielle caught.

"I know! It's like I tried to tell him, _Captain Uricha I was a little busy, no I do not know how the assassin got out, and I have never heard of anyone one from your adorable little list, besides my clients,_ which then proceed to start an hour conversation of him trying to weasel out who exactly was on my client list."

She took another bite of the plum, inspecting her teal nails, and I took the chance to really analyze my dear friend. Her shoulders were rigid, and her posture was taught. Something really had gotten to her, more like someone. I thought about what I could say to lessen the tension, maybe crack a Kat kind of joke.

"So the Uricha gave you a tough time, nothing I'm sure you didn't expect when you gave Kat that exit route."

She looked skyward, her hair falling even more loosely out of her floral arrangement.

"Yeah, Uricha I could stand, it was his accomplice I was not prepared for."

"Accomplice?!" Her words startled me, and my arms crossed habitually. "Who the hell was with him?"

She shook her head at this.

"I'm not sure why, but Lord Deckor. The District Lord of Six."

My eyebrows furrowed, and my scowl deepened.

"Why bogov snegopadwould he be involved?"

Brielle mirrored my body perfectly.

"You really want my opinion here?"

"Well it would be ni-"

"Whatever you and Kat have schemed up in your basement has drawn the attention of someone with significantly more power than just the city guard's captain, and who knows maybe next time High Lord Hasselton will have something to say to me, but at least I won't have anything to tell him because I'll be as precisely as clueless as him!"

Her rant was finalized as she started to turn away, tossing her fruit's pit aside and she moved towards the door. I could tell that our friendship couldn't take much more than this.

"Brielle..."

She stopped.

"Unless you are going to tell me why you two are really going around _killing_ high society members - three in the last six months - do not bother Rebecca."

At the use of my full name with no pet adjectives attached, I knew this was the end unless I came clean. But she wouldn't want to stay anyway and I wouldn't be able to handle the looks she would give me.

"It's... it's an honor thing Brielle." I wanted us to remain friends but I wasn't about to tell her everything, hoping that my words conveyed what I really meant.

She turned around, her hands on her hips, waiting expectantly.

"That's it. That's all I get. _Unbelievable_. We've been friends a long time Rebecca, and I know you need your privacy, but when I start to get dragged into your _kuzo_ I expect some sort of explanation. Not all the tiny details but at least _something_..." she trailed off, waiting.

There was a layer of tension buzzing through the roof top garden, and it had nothing to do with the insects that were about. I thought about what would happen if I told her, just a little, of why I was hell bent on heading down this hole. Why I needed to have those men slotted for revenge. How I could not honor my family without staining myself one kill at a time.

I knew she was expecting a long winded answer, but just thinking about that night, about what I had to do to survive while it all happened around me, I could only form a sentence.

"It's about my family. It's an honor thing that I have to do for them, I can't..I need..." the words leaving my lips tersely, almost like they could not be released. This is where I always choked. I didn't like Brielle's blunt demand to know what was going on, but I could respect why she felt she needed to know just what was going on.

Taking a shaky breath I turned around and faced the skyline of Brigton. I could at least admit to the acts that I had committed, but not _why I had them completed_. I knew my family couldn't be laid to rest without closure, but it still hurt to trust someone again. Deep down I knew Brielle would never wound me with what had happened in my past, but that wasn't exactly what I feared. I feared the pity I would see behind her blue eyes, and the worried glances she'd shoot at me later. The scar on my eyebrow twitched, and I remembered all the stares I got back than. Those stares made me feel pathetic, worthless, weak. I had come too far to go back to that point.

My arms crossed over my chest and a glazed look came over my face. It bothered me that I didn't feel like I could tell Brielle, but the only reason Kat knew is because she practically stumbled upon my history and dug a little too deep. I would not let this stop me though. Even if I couldn't tell her why, I hoped Brielle would understand that this list needed to be completed, that my family would be avenged. I had survived too much and come too far to just let their memories go without _trying_ to get their killers and set things right. Anger was now a part of my soul just as their memories were.

But friendship proved to be a stronger force than any I had felt. Brielle's eyes soften slightly, and she began to approach me. That one sentence I had given her mere moments ago, was more personal information than I had released in years of friendship. And like a true friend, she knew what that meant coming from me.

"So it can be safely assumed that you and your little Handsy friend are going to continue on this vendetta?"

I put my arms over the railing of the balcony, my silence and stony features serving as confirmation.

Brielle seemed torn at what to do with this information, but after a minute or two of arguing with herself she dragged her hands down her face, smearing some of her makeup in the process.

Reaching up she grasped one of the last orange blossoms tucked in her hair and tugged it free. She turned the delicate thing over in her fingers and shook her mane free.

"Well then, we have a lot to plan."

Brielle's one sentence back spoke volumes. She was staying, had my back.

Turning I leaned against the back of the railing and crossed my arms, smirking just a little. "Since when is there a we?"

"Since you and Handsy decided to royally piss off the Uricha Brat. Don't you know that is my job to do single handedly?" Brielle replied, while turning sideways to look at me.

"Although..."

She surprised me by shooting out her hand and I froze with anticipation.

The smell of orange filled my nose and I realized that she had just tucked one of her blossoms in my own cropped hair, and I felt truly honored. Brielle never shared anything that dealt with the doll portion of her life. Gossip and street affairs yes, but never anything personal or tangible. It probably meant that we would both be sharing more in the future, but as I reached up to caress the flower I found I really didn't care.

She gave me her own feliney smirk.

"I can't let you have all the fun my Procurer friend."

Really smiling now I thanked the _bog_ for perfect sunsets, open night skies, and courtesans with a sense of how to play the _real_ game.

"However, I, unlike you two Bakas, refuse to run into anything blind, and therefore, will be doing thorough planning around our next...well... how should I put it..."

Now turning to look directly at her and her disheveled appearance, I grasped one of her forearms, my eyes suddenly glittering with excitement.

"...Our next target."

Kami, I love that woman.

Glossary-

kuso: damn Kutobare: fucking/fuck

Drug: friend Akuma: demon


	6. A Little Nobu goes a Long Way

/-/-/-/: Kat POV

()()(): Brielle POV

§ § § § §: Bex POV

XXXXX: general POV

A Little Nobu...

goes a Long Way.

After Brielle's declaration and her determination to find the next target for Bex, one would think that it was a call to action, and that there would be... well _action._ However, trying to piece together how deep the ties of the Gyangu went into the fence's Sovman past, where the appearance of the Harbinger fit into the whole show, and why Lord Deckor was assisting Captain Uricha on interrogations was frying everyone's minds. No progress had been made in the two weeks since Hasselton's ball, and the silence that had settled over the city lulled the trio into a false sense of security. This made doing real detective work difficult, so most days the ladies made little progress, and ended up uncovering nothing more than loose ends.

These loose ends were making it a boring time for the Hand, so much so that Kat had been taking even more of a liking to hiding out in the basement or her roof-top oasis above Bex's shop. The flat tiled singles absorbed the sun's heat quite nicely, and made for a heavenly nap time spot or a great lookout for people watching. Whatever the assassin was in a particular mood for. She'd only really move around when night had settled, and laid around like a lazy _dobe_ for the rest of the day.

After a few days of this, Bex had reached her limit. Walking down into her _special_ storeroom, also known as where she kept all the black market goods tucked away, she noticed Kat on her familiar rafter perch, presumably taking a bit of an indoor nap this afternoon.

 _A lazy assassin was as good as a dead one._

Without too much foresight on what would happen to the dreadful assassin, Bex silently made her way to the head of the table below Kat's resting spot. She could make out the long tendrils of hair dangling from the solid wood, and decided to test _The Hand's_ reflexes.

Reaching around, she slid a hand up into the back of her corset. Of course this was an original _Bex_ designed garment and while it had short capped sleeves, and looked to be extremely form fitting, drawing attention to a wicked hourglass shape. It was all merely an illusion. The tight piping and slates of what appeared to be whale bone, were actually reinforced armor that protected her torso and lower back. Bex also had the material custom made, so while it looked to be laced tight, the back was made of a stretchy lightweight material which was also reinforced. The material was perfect for manufacturing secret pockets to hold even more perfectly terrifying weapons. Never say practicality could not be beautiful.

Her hand slipped into that pocket and gripped one of the twin Chakram blades from its holster. These blades could be hooked together to form a deadly circle, or used singly to deliver nasty slices - both styles of fighting with the blades were difficult to master due to the sharpness and shape of the blades. Bex would know, she had scars to prove it.

Gripping the worn handle, Bex glanced back up at the the napping assassin, and decided to make a point. She brought her arm behind her, her fingers curling around the part of the blades that were exposed in the pocket, and quietly pulled one out. Silently she lowered it to her side. Bex made a point to not look at her target - she was taught not to _telegraph_ so obviously. _Any opponent worth fighting could feel your stare a thousand miles away._ And Kat was one well worth fighting. Moving like a panther stalking its' prey, Bex lightly stepped on her chair at the table so she could get high enough to take a swing at her dangling target. Pushing herself up, while simultaneously bringing her armed hand above her head, the blade facing out in front of her, Bex sprang off the chair. Spinning in the air, she allowed her momentum to assist the blade to do what she wanted it to do - something not exactly intended for such a beautiful blade- but boredom called for desperate measures.

A subtle swish could be heard, before the blade harmlessly fell to her side when she landed.

Bex smirked at the now empty spot that the rafter presently had as she slid the chakram back into its holster.

"You know if I was any slower, I would be sporting a new hairstyle _Procurer."_

Looking down to where Kat had landed on the table - belly side down, after she rolled of her perch - Bex had little sympathy.

"Meh, just making sure you still knew how to operate when there was daylight around."

Kat dropped her head to the worn wood below her with a thud.

"...And was curious what that new Brigton hairstyle would look like on you, _moy_ _drug ubiytsa."_

A muffled snort could be heard through the folds of fabric from Kat's cloak.

"Call me _friend_ all you want, still wouldn't change what I'd do to you if you'd managed to shear these dreads from me."

"Ha! I'd like to see you try..."

Kat perked up at the mention of violence.

"Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Well the suns out - are you sure you remember how to face anything this early in the afternoon," Bex questioned baitingly

The assassins eyes glittered as she lazily stretched back onto her knees, hands never leaving the table. Bex mechanically tensed, which was almost undetectable, due to being trained to do so when facing a perceived a threat. _It's all mechanics Bex. Practice them so they happen when you need them to._ She could practically hear his voice in her head even after all these years. Kat broke the Fence out of her semi-trance by merely curving her lips into a dangerous grin, and asking for the perimeters of the fight.

"First blood?"

"If you think you can last that long," Bex teased, while reaching into the specially tailored sheaths hanging on the sides of her leather leggings. Drawing out a large hunting knife from the one on her left quad and a machete from her other side, she readied herself. Since Bex was not manning the topside store this afternoon, she had her sheaths and other weapon concealers strapped to their various positions, visible in all their glory. However, because Bex was decked out with her weaponry, she was not wearing her special fingerless gloves - the ones that protected her hands when delivering punches and catching Kat's various throwing objects. This put the Fence at a slight disadvantage, being that Kat loved throwing her shiny toys at her, but she was convinced that she could coax the assassin into a more up close and personal fight. Though that was dependent on _The Hand_ herself. There was a strategy to how Bex operated but Kat was unpredictable at best, and when all of her more professional training kicked in...

Kat pulled out an old assassin's trick, and threw down a smog egg. The white wisps of gas and glass fumed over the table's surface and her own get away. Bex instinctively flinched, covering her face to avoid the onslaught of particles.

By the time she recovered, simply seconds, the black wraith had disappeared from the fence's vision. The sight of the bare table drove Bex back to her roots. Sovmans had no issues playing dirty, and could disappear like the smog Kat had used to cover her own momentary escape.

Dropping to the floor, the limber fence tucked and rolled under the table. Thuds from some of Kat's many throwing knives echoed above, as they were driven into the table. Bex knew she had to get the Assassin out of the shadows and into the light. This is where Kat's training was naturally limited to hand to hand combat, and she became less stealthy. Listening for any sounds above, Bex could barely make out Kat's light breathing coming from the ceiling corner by the entryway. How she had managed to get all the way over there in such little time would be something to admire later, but Bex knew to get the fight she wanted, she'd have to draw Kat out to where the training ring was.

The training ring was little more than a faded circle drawn in the dirt floor, but it was the only corner of the storeroom that was unfinished, had no precious goods anywhere near it, and most importantly: did not have those blasted rafters!

Devising a way to cross the room, Bex took another silent breath, and crawled closer to the opposite end of the table. The ring was straight ahead, but Kat would be expecting Bex to head that direction. Grabbing a chair with her regretfully bare hands, she forced it away from the table while she exploded sideways in the opposite direction at the same time. Her distraction worked well, and she made her way to the ring.

The feeling of knives skimming her trail was exhilarating, and after the boring week they'd gone through, felt amazing. Danger always brought out the best from these two.

Reaching the ring, Bex pulled one of the sparring dummies in front of her. Using the shield to her advantage, she gave the assassin no option but to come to her if she wanted to land a hit.

Kat realized this, and let out and obnoxious sigh.

"You're just delaying the inevitable _Rebecca darling_."

"Come on down, _vozlyublennaya,_ and prove it."

" _Sweetheart_ huh," Kat mumbled to herself. "Oh of course _shnookums,_ I'll be right on over."

Never one to back down, Kat executed a series of jumps and flips to get from rafter to rafter. Her ruffled skirt, if one could call that length of a garment a skirt, rippled as she leaped. A proper woman would not be seen in such a short piece, but it was her grey _obi_ that _really_ concerned the assassins opponent. Bex knew that would be where Kat hid all her toys. It would keep this interesting for sure.

As Kat flipped down into the ring, Bex pushed the dummy aside, leaving just the two of them. The outcome depending on their skills and ability to out think each other.

From that mysterious belt Kat pulled out a long tanto blade and her beloved blackjack. The two ladies sized each other up and let the tension roll down their arms into their chosen weapons. In the blink of an eye, Bex crossed the distance between her and Kat and let her know in no uncertain terms that the game was on.

§ § § § §

 _Der'mo. That would hurt if she landed a hit_.

Too bad she'd have to get close enough.

Knowing that one way or another this fight was about to get messy, I decided to start this my way. My machete slashed from the left towards Kat's head and she blocked the hit with her blade in her right hand. Continuing on with my assault, I stepped forward and swung my hunting knife to swipe across her midsection, landing a slightly negated hit on her _obi._ Sparks flew as my blade scraped the silk and against the material around her waist.

Kat gave a psikhish grin.

"Customized, although not by your lovely self." She ducked under my outstretched arm, trying to copy my swipe with her own blade. "You like?"

I stepped back just as the steel nearly managed to nick my corset of armor.

"I can appreciate it for sure."

"Hmmm."

Using my height to my advantage I pressed forward, throwing strikes with thunder at her smaller frame. I wanted to trip her up, get her out of any of the number of footworks she had trained with. Doing so would get this going, and I just _loved_ the sound when our blades collided.

Thanks to soundproofing, no one in the store above knew that beneath them a battle was raging on. Kat finally hooked her blackjack to her wrist with the strap, and quickly pulled out yet another throwing knife.

I groaned. _Der'mo_ long distance, I wanted this up close and personal.

Twisting out of the way of the incoming sharp dagger, I used that momentum to kick the blade out of her hand. My foot collided with her wrist with a satisfying thud, and I recognized that I had managed to kick her beautiful jade finished bludgeoner away from her as well.

Kat's eyes screamed for blood, and she furiously tossed away her tanto.

 _Bring it vozlyublennaya._ My blades made their own thuds as they were tossed and skidded across the floor. Hand to hand was her mistake. Never challenge a Sovman to hand to hand combat. We traded blows for a bit me blocking her loaded punches with my arms and hands and her blocking my lethal kicks with her legs and arms. We were almost at a stalemate, trying to gauge just what the other was after, until Kat upped the ante. In less than a blink of an eye she broke out her elegant Theodosian martial arts that I was far less skilled in.

I hated when she did her assassin thing and did that.

She managed to fly through a series of lightning fast kicks that put me off balance, and at the right moment she swept my feet out from under me. I hit the floor with a solid umph and immediately rolled left, regretting it a second later.

Knowing my strong side, Kat was prepared. I had a lovely booted foot to doge, which I did so by executing a roll backwards over my shoulder. Once I was planted back on my toes, I pulled out my finely honed skills and screwing proper techniques, blitzed on her.

With my equally well placed and timed assaults of a less than elegant _Sovman_ martial art, I got her backing up, before I decided to flat out tackle the maniacal assassin; _and her liquid grace_. I man handled her like the best of Sovman blood could and flipped her over onto her stomach before she could even suck in a breath to recover from the impact. Kat ate dirt before she knew what had happened, and my fingers dug into her long hair as I forced her to do it again and again.

This was _quite_ the satisfying turn of events to occur amidst ravenous boredom.

Kat quickly had enough of me smashing the side of her face into the ground after a few goes and I could feel her trying to buck me off, while her feet tried to find a hold in which to kick me off. She met that with little success. Smirking I knew my victory was close. Either she'd call it, or her nose would bust and start bleeding. The match would then be called and I would have my victory. However, I did not count on her being able to rummage through that blasted belt of hers and pull a clover knife out. The slim blades glimmered, it's four tips thirsty for blood, and that was the only warning I got before it sliced where my hand was located.

 _Near_ my hand being more appropriate because that glint was all I needed to move out of the way. While she missed my hand, she did not miss her hair, and my distraction and change of grip on her head was all she need to burst free.

Rolling around on the ground, both of us landing and blocking blows, neither of us realized that the door to the room was opened, and that Brielle and Hiro had made their way into the storeroom.

"So then what happened Hiro-chan?"

"Well the young boy picked up the mechanical tinker toy, the one shaped like the frog, and it opened up its mouth and spewed oil at the mother, who then..."

"Iiiiiiieeeeeee! _Nani_? What the hell are you two doing?!" The courtesan's voice pulled both of us apart, and we rolled to our respective corners of the ring.

"Why Brielle-sama, you do a very good impression of that woman. Have you dabbled in the theatre arts any point in your career?" Hiro asked sweetly.

Kat snorted, or at least tried through her mashed nosed.

"Probably not in de arts u're inking doufff..." The assassin trailed trying to crinkle her nose and move it around but finding such things difficult. I hadn't broken it but it was close. And bloody.

I rolled my eyes, and made my way to a vertical position taking inventory of every new bruise that Kat had managed to land, and that would require ice later. _Those chert kick sequences of hers are getting better and better every time we train - I'll have to find a way to deal with those soon or she'll get the upper hand. Looks like I'll have to pick another fight later._

Brielle's look of horror was not unfounded, seeing as both Kat and I looked like railway victims, but was hilarious and brought me back to the present. I crossed my arms into their normal position,

"Playing…" I drawled sarcastically in response to her question and was met by unwavering eyes. "So how was your day?" I continued, ignoring her stare.

The woman blinked twice, and shook her head while rolling her eyes, causing the fabric of her stunning hoop skirt to jostle ever so slightly.

"Well, very nice, until I made my way down here to find you two going at it like a couple of sumo wrestlers. Just what on earth was that about?"

"We have more finesse than sumo wrestlers Brielle. Especially her." I stated, motioning towards Kat, who was still laying on the ground. The two of us shared a look before she shrugged, rolled over onto her back, and began her endeavor of creating hairy dirt angels. So I answered Brielle's question seriously with a smile.

"We're just blowing off some steam, seeing if Kat could still kill something, and giving her a much needed shearing."

The hands of the assassin formed an obscene gesture, and I laughed outloud. A short bob would suit the troll just fine; and would be easier to hide in a hood. Brielle belatedly joined in with my laughter after noticing that Kat's hair was indeed much shorter, and Kat just continue to make dirt angels on the floor occasionally stopping to sit up and shake her newly cut hair and marvelling at how light it now felt. I noticed then that Hiro was holding a rather large package, and from the looks of the labeling, I knew it was from one of my Selim contacts. Anything from this particular trader would be good no matter what, but if they had managed to get a hold of what I put out for, this afternoon really was shaping up to be better than the entire week.

"Go ahead and bring that to the table Hiro," I called out while walking over to the sink that sat off of the fighting ring. It sat next to the shower I had installed after _The Hand_ started to use the sewer tunnels as transportation. Scrubbing away the remainder of our fight, I made my way over to where Brielle and Hiro were huddled by the table.

Reaching into yet another holster, this one plastered to the back of my calf, I pulled out another hunting knife. This one was smaller and had the words _Moya Dobrynya_ written in Sovman characters on it, and was only used for special occasions. It belonged to my father after my mother had bought it for him for his birthday, and I remembered him opening every package that he ordered for his own business with it. _Strength, honor, family. Everything I strove to uphold with control of my version of the family business._ The blade pried the nails from the lid free, and exposed the large sapphire object nestled in a straw bed.

As soon as the light hit its geometric surface, intakes of breath echoed around the table, or above in Kat's case. _Seriously how did she... never mind. Focus on the sparkly, beautiful creature in front of you._

Hiro spoke first.

"Rebecca-sama... is that.."

"Uh huh."

"Aren't those creatures extremely dangerous?"

"Yup."

"Annnnnd possession of said creature without proper paper-work and documentation is highly illegal?" the young lad finished.

"Correct." I replied, stretching the word out, as if to entertain us further.

I couldn't help but grin at the wonder and horror etched on his face. Brielle had a different one, something I couldn't place. It was reminiscent? Possibly a little sad? And not my problem.

I backed up slowly and started to rummage through one of the trunks nearby, and found a soft wool blanket. Bringing that back over to the table I set it down, and carefully lifted the egg-straw combo into the fold. The new nest created, I turned back around to find a few small candles, for a heat source.

"You are not possibly going to do what I think you are going to do..." Brielle asked. "Because if you think for one minute I'll be down here when you try to hatch that beast..."

I set the candles in a U shape around the nest, and dug around in yet another pocket. Acquiring my lighter I started to light the wicks.

"Well, I'm going to assume you remember where the door is Brielle."

She gave me a blank look. Kat giggled.

"Ah, but miss Brielle-sama, if you have forgotten, I shall show it to you with great pleasure!"

Brielle returned my look with her own.

"Thanks Hiro, but I have a feeling these two are going to require your assistance in about, oh an hour or two. Depending on the humidity down here."

The boy looked a little crestfallen.

"But, perhaps you should stay as well then! I could put some tea on and find some sweets! Like those little cakes with the pretty designs, some almond cookies, and..."

"Gomen nasai Hiro-chan, but I'd rather not be here when that thing decides to hatch." Nodding to me, she turned to leave. "Do not die. Do not burn down the store. I would hate to lose such wonderful goods."

Not bothering to wave at her, I slumped down into one of the chairs and rested my chin in my hands. The staring contest of the next century had begun.

XXXXX

Traveling around the city was not difficult, just a little crazy. For Brielle to travel from her flat to Bex's shop she took an old fashion rickshaw. The driver, who pedaled as fast as some of the mechanical cars on the cobblestone roads, was one in a sea of many. Bex's store being located in the under belly of the city, made the little cart the best way to maneuver through the small alleys and narrow roads.

But if Brielle wanted to go up town, and shop in the _classier_ districts of the city, she usually found a cab. It would not do for _the_ Doll of Brigton to be seen in rickshaw. Surely she had better means of transportation than one of those silly little things. If you were to ask Brielle which one she preferred, she would have an opinion, but if she would answer truthfully would be another thing. Reputation to keep up and all that.

After deciding not to stick around Bex's shop, Brielle did decide to head up town. She wanted to visit her favorite apothecary, to pick up some new essentials. Maybe to see what was new in the store, and of course catch up with her dear friend. It was just perfect planning that the courtesan was dressed in a Brigton style skirt and tight corset.

Normally she would not care if her dresses had a taste of Theodosia in them, but it did make hailing a cab much easier if they were fashioned like a proper Brigton lady's. A small black bugger peeled to the side of the road as soon as Brielle raised a gloved hand. The cabby jumped out and immediately went to open the door for her.

"Where to miss?" He asked politely while tipping his hat to her.

"Dickens Street please, and do roll down the windows."

"Yes, of course Miss."

The breeze filtering through the cab made Brielle smile, and feel a little better as the car pulled back into the traffic heading towards the center of the city.

()()()

I tipped the cabbie generously, because _Kami_ knows you could not pay me enough to be in that line of work. Looking up at the beautiful wooden teal sign in front of me, and the wares visible in the storefront, compared to that stuffy cab, I knew I was in the right business for sure.

As I pulled open the metal chalice door, a small bell chimed. This signaled the owner to come out from behind a mannequin she was in the midst of dressing and great me.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Fosch's Apothecary, home to all your beauty and- dear goodness! If it isn't my most favorite person in the entire city!"

I cracked a small smile at the woman. Fosch's was the best place to come in Brigton that had the perfect hair oils, lip stains, and other miscellaneous things that you never knew you needed until you saw them. Mechanical typewriters, gear-filled frames that told the you the time in spectacular ways, and of course the latest in the gossip of Brigton.

The owner looked pleased at my presence, and even happier at the chance that we could catch up.

"Anthea, it has been too long," I stated while grasping her lightly by the shoulders and nudging my lips to her cheeks in the typical Brigton fashion of greeting.

"Yes! Far too long really, the last time you were in was a week before the High Lord's ball. You never did come back and tell your dear Anthea how it went!"

Still smiling and close to Anthea, I could smell the gardenia oil in her long brunette hair. One day I would get her to explain to me just how she got it so perfectly curled in those beautiful barrels, but I did not think she would impart such secrets without some trading.

"Ah, well you see..."

"Now now, don't go spilling the details quite yet. The lights still on in the front and I got one more Lady dallying around here somewhere."

Anthea started looking high and low for this elusive customer, and I shook my head. She really was a delight, especially when she got going. Most assumed because she ran one of the largest female ware shops in the city that she was just as big of an airhead herself. Those fools could not be more wrong.

Anthea may have built her fortune on the coins of brainless peacocks, but she had never acted a fool in her life. Fosch's was where I got all of my custom makeup and specialty goods, and most of where I got my information about clients and such. Anthea knew nearly everyone in the city, who they associated with, and other minor details that were important to me and my job. Her store was the beginning of an information network that was managed by the woman herself. The joy that she got be surrounded by beautiful pieces was purely secondary.

I noticed the bustle of Anthea's deep plum skirt dance around the forgotten mannequin, and her porcelain hand grip my wrist. She led me through the store, tittering about this and that. Was the young James as sweet as he looked? _No._ Did the Hasselton manor really have gold camodes that everyone talked about? _Yes, but they send quite a chill up your rear when you sit._ And did the Hand really show up and try to assassinate everyone in the ballroom? Swing in from a chandelier and disappear into thin air? _Well not exactly..._

On and on she went, but it the chatter never bothered me. This was a friendship I cherished, because I could not discuss things like this with Bex, or _Kami_ forbid Kat. Having a friend where the most serious conversation was about what I would be wearing to my next job and how I was going to seduce said client was refreshing from the secrets I danced with in others.

"Ah ha! There you are!"

Anthea's proclamation brought me out of my inner murmurings, and I looked up to recognize the Lady Erianna in front of me.

Clad in a beautiful maroon ensemble, I took in the copper accents before executing a polite curtsey.

"My Lady..."

"Oh! Oh please, do call me Erianna. My Lady is much too formal for this setting do you not agree?" the young woman pardoned.

"I could not agree more," Anthea answered. "My store is a place for all to feel welcomed, title or not!"

Both Lady Erianna and I shared a smile. It seemed the Lady did not judge my lack of one, or the profession I had taken up.

"It is nice to know that there are those in the Brigton court who feel confident enough in themselves to not need the title," I said cautiously. I wanted to feel out the waters on Erianna's opinion on this matter. Too many of the upper class held on to those ideals, to the point that it made their adult company feel like I was surrounded by squabbling children.

Erianna did not seemed fazed by my blunt comment..

"Yes, I do believe there are some who are quite dependent on such titles, but my family has never been such; And speaking of them- "

The young woman reached into the pearled bag draped on her wrist and pulled out a piece of parchment. "-Anthea, I have an order you talked about with my father. We would be happy to redo the lights around your store, and would install the latest fairy lights system as soon as you are ready."

The apothecary's eyes lit up at the promise of brighter lights, with the upgrade of being able to dim them for some atmosphere. _Electricity was such a wonderful thing._ Her store would be talked and visited even more, while the Modrow family equipt yet another street with their creation.

As the two began to finish up with the details of the contract and head up to the front of the store, I began to browse. Once I heard the bell chime again, and Anthea flip the open sign to close, I made my way back up to the front of the store.

Taking in the lacy curtains in the windows, I noticed they were different.

"Anthea, are those new?"

"Why yes they are! Good eyes, I just changed them last week. Satin drapes were so last season, and the lighter material lets in so much more light."

The sun was shining through the windows, letting in more light, which bounced around on every sparkle in the front. I particularly noticed how well the gems in front of me were reflecting such rays.

"It's sure making those beautiful crystal necklaces dazzle even brighter."

The business woman's smile showed some teeth.

"Well, that's just an added bonus now isn't it."

"But of course," I replied with my own smirk.

She lead me to the familiar black iron patio set that was placed in an alcove next to to the cashier's table. This is where we would typically meet to catch up, share a cup or two of robust Brigton coffee, and ultimately trade secrets.

We did not get too far into our cups or chat before the door beckoned once again.

"Excuses me, but can you not read? The sign _clearly_ says closed," Anthea stated, rolling her eyes across the table at me.

"Excuse me, but can you not sound _too_ excited to see me?" a familiar voice sassed right back. Both of us were back on or feet and flashing over to the door. Wrinkled skirts and heels be damned.

"BRINN!" We screeched in unison as we engulfed our friend in an air-tight hug.

I could barely make out her chuckle beneath the layers of Anthea and my dresses.

"W'ingapbo to you too," she muttered. "Now get the heck off meh!"

We pulled ourselves away from the traveler, and took in her appearance. Being a wanderluster meant that Brinn could be gone for days, weeks, months, and once even a year. She traveled the world, finding the most amazing places. Once there she would trade what she wanted, learned what she could, and enjoyed every part of the culture that she visited. Anthea and her relationship went way back, and Brinn always brought the best stuff back for her favorite store owner. Evidenced by the unique pieces of shell jewelry hanging from the coasts, bizarre statues from the Selim dessert made of strange gords, and amazing color pigments from the people of the untamed woods west of Brigton itself.

Relieved at seeing her friend, Anthea had to chastise her a little bit.

"Gone for four months, and not even a letter. I nearly thought you had died."

Brinn laughed, tugging her dark braid forward, over her shoulder. "Couldn't have gotten that lucky."

"Oh? Run into some trouble from colonists out east?" I asked, concern slipping in.

"What, _those_ incompetent Brigton sissy's? God no. It was their Theodosian workers actually. Couldn't really blame them though, those plantation conditions are awful."

Thinking of my country men, and what they went through after the defeat of our motherland boiled my blood.

"They didn't cause too much trouble for you did they?" Anthea asked as she lead us back over to the patio, myself and Brinn carrying her bags of gear. The tall woman shook her head.

"Nah, they just made crossing the Sovman border a wee bit interesting."

I nodded at her agreement, and commented with an, "ah."

Anthea looked a little more concerned as she made to pour Brinn a drink.

"Define _interesting_ deary."

Chocolate eyes twinkled, and Brinn's freckles danced as she pulled out an award winning smile.

"Let's just say that there is one less mountain pass available for trading travel."

"Well that will not be fun to deal with at all, are you planning on heading east again any time soon?" I asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"Not until I run out of..." the traveler dug through one of her hide bags and pulled out very clear bottle of liquor," THIS."

We all stared at the bottle in front of us, the colorless liquid settling from the slam.

"Brinn, is that?" Anthea started

"Yaaaup."

"Having a bottle of that is punishable by law?" I questioned.

"Oh for sure," the traveler stated with a grin. She grabbed the bottle and started to twist the cap open.

The seal broke, and the smell of glaciers washed over the small table and up to our noses.

Laughing slightly at our initial hesitation, Brinn stirred the pot.

"The real question is, what the hell we're waitin for?!"

Coffee was quickly dumped or drained out of cups, and soon replaced with the devil's drink. Eyeing my two drinking buddies I wanted to clear up something before we started.

"Now this will not be like last time." Both nodded vigorously. "I would like to remember how I got home later tonight, and recall exactly how I ended up in my bed."

Anthea giggled.

"Hopefully alone this time around too."

"Gah! To think we're friends with such a loose moral lady!" Brinn responded with mock indignation, while nudging Anthea's elbow.

I raised my mug up to theirs in a toast. I could not believe the friends I had found. A small smile crossed my lips just before the alcohol burn did.

My mug was soon empty, but did not stay so for long. Brinn kept the mugs full and the stories flowing. Tales of the wild Sovmans in the tundra, meeting the imperial Czar and his family, and something about a church with striped turrets. Honestly I might have been a little sloshed by the time she got to that part, but no matter. Catching up and drinking with friends was a good way to spend the afternoon. _Even if I did not remember parts of it._

XXXXX

Back at the shop, while Brielle was wrapping up (more like sobering up) with Brinn and Anthea, the rest of the gang were figuring out how to handle the beast that had indeed hatched in the basement.

Handle being the operative word.

The beast that Bex had put out for was called a Betamin Beast. These creatures resembled a lizard, with scales that ranged from gem tones to as clear as a pane of glass. They had broad flat heads that were perfect for battering and ramming into things, while their wide tails could whip around for surprise attacks. While majestic and magnificent, Betamins were well known for causing destruction and leaving owners and captors with astonishing damage and broken bones.

Which is precisely what the basement dwellers were dealing with.

" _Blyad_!" Bex swore as she held her hand to her chest. " _Der'mo_! I think thebeast got a finger!"

"Well at least it was just a finger, not your nutsack," Kat said dryly. "Poor Hiro-chan hasn't been up to much since that happened, oh what was it? Ten minutes ago?"

Bex sighed, crouching down to peer under the table, this time without sticking her hand down there. A low growl rippled through the air, warning her that she should probably back off a bit. Suddenly there was a crack, and Bex felt a welt on her cheek grow from the tail slap.

"Oh that's it, you're mine you piece of..."

The fence didn't finish the statement as she dove under the table, in an attempt to wrestle the baby into submission. The baby was over two feet long however, and did not care for the treatment at all. Not one bit.

The result was one of the worst wrestling matches the basement storeroom had ever seen. Saying a lot since a drunk Kat and an over tired Bex could really smash around the shelves. The not so little guy was terribly frightened after his egg had opened, and the Fence's face appeared into his line of vision, and since then he had not calmed down. Hiro had gotten nailed trying to stop the baby beast from trying to scurry down the manhole, and Kat had simply given up trying to pounce on the creature. Merely content with watching the chaos ensue from above. The Fence desperately wanted the creature to imprint on her.

Funny thing about Betamins is that once they found their precious person, or imprinted on a figure, they were extremely loyal. Two lives would be forever intermixed, and Bex thought that having the beast sired to her would be a wonderful game changing event.

But the little cretin had other plans.

Refusing to acknowledge any of the three people surrounding the table when his egg hatched, he went into a terrified rampage. Lashing out at any of the gang who got too near. The storeroom looked like a warzone and the beastie was currently under the table trying to hide from the terrors above, while Bex was still trying to get the little guy turned to her side.

Hiro-chan was lying defeated in the corner, while Kat watched partially amused and apprehensive from the safety of her rafter.

Once Bex and the beast had settled again, the fence halfway under the table staring at the navy slit eyes with her own. The door to the storeroom opened and a slightly inebriated Brielle sauntered in.

"Goooooood evening Rebecca Darling! How goes the Betamin adventures?" the doll sloshed out, while casually leaning against the entry way, her appearance slightly ruffled.

Taking in what she could see from her vantage point, Bex wanted to be sure the drunk girl didn't do something too stupid.

"Please tell me you took a cab..."

"AH! But of course! In fact the fabulous man is waiting for me upstairs. I'm just making sure that nobody has lost a limb yet."

Kat snorted, Bex glared at her.

"Nah, the little guy did manage to get a good hit on Fency's fingers, but alas no lost limbs."

"Huh," Brielle started while looking around the room. "Speaking of beasts, where is the fellow anyway?"

"Fine. If you won't come to me, go to _her_." Bex mumbled to the creature before she grunted loud enough for everyone else to hear and shoved herself forward, pushing the Betamin out from under the table and into the open. "There," she stated gruffly, remaining stretched out on the floor.

Upon seeing the creature, Brielle sobered up a little bit. He was dark blue, with a lighter sapphire belly, with the brightest navy eyes she had ever seen. Sensing her gaze across the room, the Betamin turned toward the Courtesan.

Eyeing each other up, the beast started to make his way over to the woman. Immediately Kat tensed and Bex began to slowly make her way onto all fours.

 _Der'mo, I didn't think you'd actually do it!_

"Brielle," Bex warned, "Be careful."

The creature didn't pause in it's path to the door, and Brielle didn't seemed fazed by it sticking out its' gills threatenly.

"Yeah _Putaro,_ you might want to make a get away while you still can," Kat chimed. "I've seen what this thing can do, and that's to us _trained_ killing professionals."

"Ha, perhaps that's why he does not like you very much," the courtesan commented softly while crouching down into a curtsy in front of the two feet of lizard approaching her.

Bex was twitchy about this, and wanted to grab on of the knives in her sheathes, but was also interested to see how Brielle interacted with the Betamin. There was something odd about her behavior as Bex watched the silken lady tip her head forward in greeting, her eyes never leaving the beast's. Bex remembered the flash of emotion that passed over the courtesan's face when she had opened the box earlier. The Fence hadn't wondered what it had meant then but was intrigued now. The familiarity Brielle had with the beast was confusing, as Bex had never heard anything about these sorts of things from the Doll. What did these behaviors mean? Bex had a feeling that she was about to find out.

Surprisingly the Betamin paused in his approach, but left his gills out, even going as far to puff out his chest.

Brielle then dropped her gaze to the floor just in front of where the creature had stopped and slowly brought her hand up to face level. Her palm was out, and fingers were loose in a non-threatening manner.

The blue _fellow_ started to make a rumble in his chest, which turned louder when Brielle started speaking to it in Theodosian.

" _Konichiwa chibi-chan, you are a fine son of the scales. You make your ancestors proud to be born with such fine coloring."_ she paused and took a slow glance around the room. _"And such ferocity. Truly, you do honor your kind and mine, by hatching on this day."_ Ending her speech with a deep bow, the Theodosian's head touched the floor in an honorific bow, her arm still outstretched.

Except for the thunderous rumbling from the Betamin, the air in the store was still. Kat and Bex were ready to spring to the defense of Brielle, when the unexpected happened. The beast that had given the gang a tough time for the better part of the evening, dropped a leg and bowed back.

"Whaaaat-" Bex cried.

Brielle cut her off, but didn't look up from her bow.

"Shush."

Curious, the Betamin crossed the distance between them and looked at the offered hand. Sniffing it cautiously, the little guy came to a solid conclusion. Swiftly his flat tongue darted out and licked the Courtesan's hand.

Brielle raised her head slowly, and the creature nudged her hand encouragingly.

" _Arigato Chibi-chan,"_ she whispered, slightly overcome with emotion.

While the two were getting acquainted with each other, Kat dropped down from her rafter to where Bex was still frozen in shock-like amazement.

"Huh, would you look at that," Kat commented. "Apparently you just had to talk to the thing and _not_ touch it until it came to you..."

"Gah! How...just... I mean come on! I waited forever, and she waltzes in and dazzles it in seconds."

"Yosh."

"And how was I supposed to know that it understood Theodosian, I mean that's what she was speaking-"

"Meh," Kat interrupted.

"Katya, I'm pretty sure I could recognize that ancient language off anyone's' lips, and I got that she was greeting and honoring that miscreant, but she lost me in the finer details."

"Understandable, because even I didn't catch all of that warbling."

"Kat, you're at least half Theodosian, you picked up most of that right?"

"Yes, thank you for that fine observation. Indeed I am half of the Motherland blood, but I never learned high court dialect in my _quaint_ mountain village. So while I did catch more bits and pieces than you, it's been a long time since I have even heard that particular dialect Fency, and even if I did, it's not like it matters. He's _hers_ now."

Groaning the Fence realized what this would mean.

She looked up to see the the two had bonded quite well, and that the little blue monster had crawled up into Brielle's waiting arms and was drifting to sleep.

Brielle looked up to see the glare the fence was directing at her.

"Now now Rebecca-darling, it would not be right to separate us now..."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it," the fence replied gruffly.

"Hai, but," Brielle answered while draping her familiar grey shawl around the Betamin, mostly hiding him from view, "If you let us go, I'll tell you all about his kind and how to get your very own. I'll even go through the _proper_ channels.

Bex snorted at that.

"I don't _do_ proper channels and if I actually believed that you could acquire another one-"

"Have a little _Nobu,_ Bex." The beast perked up at the sound of that word, and Brielle smiled at her _newly_ named fellow. "I might just surprise you yet."

"Either that or you owe me 800,000 bolts." Bex challenged.

With that the Doll nodded at the challenge and made her way back up the stairs to her cab, with a slight tilt that could have been from the alcohol or her added bundle. Kat seemed appeased by the promise of more fun times with crazy creatures, and Bex wondered about which version of the challenge she would get in return, knowing that the silken woman would be good for it either way. After all, _she_ was supposed to get the chert dragon.

Glossary-

Nobu: faith

Dobe: idiot

*Smert: death

obi: special type of belt, typically worn around a kimono

*der'mo: shit

*chert: damn

*Blyad: fuck

konichiwa: hello (formal)

Chibi: small/cute/handsome

*vozlyublennaya: sweetheart

moy: my

*Dobrynya: name of Russian knight, symbolizes strength, goodness, valor and unconditional support

*psikh: psycho


	7. Brinn's Sanctuary

Brinn's Sanctuary

Although some may find it bonkers, whenever Brinn found herself home for leave, she would spend the most time with Anthea as humanly possible. From when the bustling woman prepped her store, to when the last shelf was dusted at the end of the night, Anthea never found herself without the company of Brinn.

Neither seemed to mind, they both wanted to make the most of their limited time together, as Brinn would soon be heading out again, in search of new goods to bring home and to satisfy her need to wander.

However, there was the random day in which Anthea woke to the smell of coffee brewing in the apartment they shared above the shop. On a day like today, the owner would rise and pad her way to the kitchen before the sun had time to break the horizon. She'd walk in to find a beautifully written note on the dinette table next to a still warm china pot.

 _I went out, don't worry, I'll be back._

Anthea tugged on the collar of her silver satin dressing gown, not too worried, but just enough. She has always had an idea on why her friend felt the urge to escape the city, but respects her wishes not to pry or push her own worry onto the Wanderluster.

For Brinn, the walk in the cool crisp air was well worth getting up early for. Even if she did not get much sleep the night before, the air out on the outskirts of the city always seemed to soothe the nightmare's destructful wake away. She paused in her gait to pull a moccasin off her foot and dump out a pestering rock.

Taking in a deep breath, the traveler tried to expel all the tightness in her chest away. The ache did not go away, but she swore the scent of sage from the prairie made her feel less numb.

She continued along the well-worn path, east of the city's' borders, until she could finally no longer hear the clanging, banging, screeching, and _commotion_ of Brigton behind her. The wretched sounds were replaced by the wonderful sound of the wild, which was a chorus of an occasional bird's song, a cricket's chirp and the calming rustle of the soft breeze through the prairie.

You can take the traveler out of the travels, but you cannot leave them in civilization too long. The hustle and bustle of the city, with its merchants and trading got to Brinn sometimes. She started to feel claustrophobic in the rat race everyone played, and those feelings typically manifested a nightmare or two that the young woman would not like to relive.

The ringing of bells caught her attention, and she smiled softly, her dimples just beginning to crease, and she made her way up to the Monastery. The building had been around since Theodosia had been formed but what once had housed philosophers of the ancient Theodosian religion, now housed monks and priests and was where Brinn always stopped on her way out of town.

St. Michael's Monastery sat at the cross-roads where a traveler or trader could split and go to either Sovma or Selim. The two extremes of weather conditions, and this is why many travelers choose to stop and take in what the gracious monks had to offer, before continuing on their journeys.

Brinn enjoyed stopping because even though the worn building was a stopping ground for travelers, there was a sense of lull or complacency, that she had not experienced anywhere else.

She slowed her approach to the worn wooden doors and pulled one of the black iron rings back to knock. The sound echoed through the courtyard out front, and it took a minute before she heard the signs of someone coming to answer.

Dirt was scraped under as the doors parted, revealing one of the burlapped clad monks, in all his bald headed glory.

"Welcome child, the Lord seeks you today?"

The traveler released a pent up breath.

"As I seek him each and every day," she said quietly, the words rippling through the space between her and the monk.

Slowly the balding man nodded his head, and gave Brinn a slight smile. He opened the door and welcomed her in.

"We all journey that path together, even the strays feel the call."

Brinn nodded her head in response to the Brother's statement.

"Sometimes, especially in the city, I feel like it is a forgotten journey to take, and instead people bypass it and they just...erll..just they..."

"Lose themselves," the older man offered as they made their way through the entrance of the monastery. They followed a gravel path that wound its way up and around a couple structures.

"Yes!" Brinn finished, rubbing her face in frustration, "How anyone can focus so much on such little matters, well ok, making sure a deal goes right is probably not little, or ensuring that your store is well stocked and ran is not a trifling matter, and I guess maintaining a customer base in a city as diverse and dynamic as Brigton is not easy either...and..."

"Brinn."

The young woman paused in their walk.

"Sorry Brother, it's just, there is a lot going on in this head of mine today."

He nodded his head in agreement.

"We are holding prayers in the chapel at nine," he commented as he gestured to the building appearing on their left, "but may I suggest that the garden would be a good place to sort out your thoughts? Particularly since Brother Hamish will be leading the service this fine morning."

Brinn cringed at the mention of _that_ particular Brother. _You speak your mind one time during confession, and the man cannot let it go._

Truthfully, the garden of the monastery was exactly what Brinn needed, and she took the advice given to her. She went right at the fork in the path, while the Brother went left. The breeze brought the scent of spring, of life, even though the season was turning to fall.

Upon entrance the garden seemed to be a regular shape, with plants covering everything. Closer inspection revealed that it was overall a circular shape, and the path through it was hidden by the overgrowth, only visible once a visitor fully entered the garden and committed to walking through it.

Brinn always liked that. Either she decided to take the time and go through the garden, directed in the path that the plants, rather the Almighty, had made, or she would wander. Wander lost and confused, until she gave up control, and let her feet travel where she was lead.

Taking to the path, she observed that though the colors of many of the plants had faded, there was still so much vibrant life surrounding her. Passing through an arch crafted out of sun tanned brick, she ducked through the various vines drifting through the opening. A speckled finch did not appreciate her journey, and shot out of it's hiding hole inside a small pine bush a few feet beyond where she was, and Brinn laughed at the escape. _Definitely could relate to that, especially today._

Bells chimed as their various branches in the garden swayed, and the sound filled the silence.

The greenery began to thin as Brinn made her way into the back of the circular garden, and finally the plants parted ways to show a beautiful sight.

A gnarly tree with exposed roots sat unhindered by the people who visited, and it was the main reason Brinn loved the garden. Candles were placed in the nooks and crannies created by the different paths of roots and branches, and some parts of the tree were completely covered in a thin layer of wax. Not bothered one bit, the tree continued to grow, and visitors continued to visit what became known as the prayer tree. The monks even showed their appreciation to the giant by making sure it was well taken care of, and that there were always fresh candles for people to light.

Brinn loved the tree, and lighting a candle when she had sorted through what she need to was a way to release the bad thoughts, and be warmed by the good. Although the tree was bare, the leaves fallen and beginning to prepare for winter, visitors would still make the trek and candles would still be lit, even when the snow had fallen. It was truly a beautiful sight, but even the faint memories of those wonderful times were not helping Brinn. Her head was full of negatives, and her chest was starting to ache because it was getting to her.

Brinn wrestled herself into one of the gnarly roots, and dug into a comfortable position. She had no idea how long she'd be nestled among the wax covered tree, but as the candles flickered in the warming morning breeze, she knew it could take awhile. The latest venture she had taken had shaken her to the core of who she was.

Normally a venture was the perfect thing. The worst part of it would be having to leave the place that had managed to capture her attention. Thinking back, she always loved the suspense of traveling out to a new country, city, or meeting new far away people. Getting acquainted and immersing herself in their lives', living the way of whatever land she wandered to, formed some of her greatest memories. From sand surfing with the nomads of the Selim dunes, to riding bareback with the plain people in between Brigton and the Northern Forest, she had always found a way to worm herself into cultures. She had so many amazing memories, with so many breathtaking mementos as reminders.

Some she gave to Anthea to sell to the people of Brington, to remind them that the city they called home was not all that was out there. Others were more personal and physically reminded her of the places she'd been. The scar running along her wrist from when a enthusiastic carver had tried teaching her the craft, small gouge marks in her shoulder from where a Sovman falcon had made it's perch while she had tried mastering falconing a few years ago, and of course the ever present callouses on her barefeet were prideful reminders of the miles she had walked.

Yet other reminders were ones only she could see in her mind's eye.

Like the way she always approached new people with a slight amount of caution and an air of calm, the way she made sure to always pack extra water and keep food on her person at all times, or how she would always hear the crack of a whip before it landed a hit on a plantation worker in the East.

Brinn twitched at that particular one.

The boy couldn't have been more than ten and though she did not know what he had done, in her mind, it could never have warranted such a punishment.

His cries would be forever etched in her mind.

Venturing East had been a trip she had looked forward to, she hadn't been to Sovma or the border in a long time but after the disaster that the travels had turned into, Brinn did not know if she'd go back. _Could_ go back.

Young and old, Theodosian workers tirelessly strove to meet their masters wishes. From planting and harvesting, to mining and digging up precious metals hidden deep within the mountains, they worked. And worked, until many could not anymore.

Just passing along, through one of the trading trails that cut by near a plantation field, she had seen two workers pass out, only to be beaten heavily by an overseer.

Bile rose in her throat again at the reminder, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

How one human being could treat another like, like _that_ puzzled her beyond what she could fathom. Just where did people lose the sight of the Almighty's teachings, and how did they get so lost, that their own profit would cloud them enough to whip a child's back bloody.

The wind picked up, and Brinn opened her eyes to watch the candles' flames dance, about a hundred vivid blazes swaying to the rhythm established by the breeze. The flames could not control which direction or path they were sent, and she could not help but compare it to her own life. She could not control what other people did to others, her effects would be too small to make a difference, what would be the point of trying.

Feeling small, the tightness in her chest intensified to her breaking point.

All she could think of was the small boy that she didn't do anything to help. How she just left those two workers to deal with the aftermath of their beatings. She didn't do anything. Just continued on her journey, with a heavy heart.

Though, in her defense, what could she have done? One woman against years of hate and people who fully believed in their own superiority. That the demise of one group of people was acceptable because it brought another's fortune.

What could she do, as one person.

The thought rolled around in her brain, and she was reminded of a conversation before she had seen the world. Before she knew what wonders and horrors existed out there.

" _Don't know why you want to be a wanderluster cuz, not like you're going to be very successful at it. Not too many wanderers walking around with money in their pockets."_

" _Sometimes Reighline, it's not about money."_

" _That's stupid. What's the point of doing anything without money being made?"_

" _Well, maybe I just want to explore other cultures, experience what they do, and maybe expose Brigton to what the world has to offer outside city limits..."_

" _Brinn, you're one girl. It's not like you're gonna change the world."_

Starring up at the bare branches swaying, she came to a conclusion. Why the hell couldn't she change the world? Even if it started small, like showing kindness where others would turn to anger. Something small could start a ripple.

Her career choice could be the beginning of a new era where people of Brigton started to look outside their manufactured borders, and treated people like people, instead of goods to be shipped, bought, and traded.

Everything seemed to settle within the young woman. The tightness loosened to the point she could no longer feel its pull, and she welcomed the deep breath she took. Expelling what was left of her memories, she took in the calmness that was around her.

Clearing her head, and finding her peace, she rolled to a seated position and pulled herself up. She noticed that half the day was gone as she brushed off some bark from her leggings, and made her way to where the candle lighting equipment laid on a stone slab. Kneeling, she struck the long wooden wicker along the rough surface and a flame burst forth. Brinn located the nearest unlit candle and left a burning token of her afternoon of finding inner peace.

She sent a prayer to the heavens, thanking for the wonderful way in which the Almighty works, and for help in how she can start to change the thoughts of Brigton's people. Another breeze commenced through the garden, and Brinn smiled. It seemed even the Lord was in agreement.

Brinn gathered herself and walked back towards the front of the garden, strolling past a few of the fountains, admiring the late fall blossoms, and foregoing a jaunt through the labyrinth that was settled in the middle of the circular maze of plants. She had to get back to civilization, she couldn't put her plan in motion from way out here.

Also Anthea might have also saved her some lunch.

It's the small things that really provide the sanctuary that we all crave.


	8. Beginning of the End- Brielle's Origin

The Origins of Brielle Greysilk

Ever since I was a child I had expectations placed upon me.

Being born into a wealthy Theodosian family I was expected to be prim and proper, to learn how to hold myself in every setting imaginable, _including_ the unimaginable.

Being a girl of relatively high status, I was expected to be well versed in various areas of society, so my childhood days were full of learning different languages, how to speak in public, and of course how to dress in a manner suitable for my position in society.

And being born a child from a family with a prominent history of gifted members, it was never an if I would manifest one, it was expected that I would, and it was _expected_ that I would be very good at mastering whatever is appeared as to help the family.

As it was, these expectations were manageable in my childhood. I remember fondly days of dancing around with different tutors, from astrology in the morning, art in the afternoon, followed by tea serving lessons, leading into mastering different subjects like math and poetry. Our mansion out on the Eastern edge of the city was a perfect place to cultivate a sharp mind. I loved learning, and always enjoyed surprising my parents with how easily I could absorb knowledge and best the tutors with my wit. Not surprising they were proud of how well their daughter accomplished even the hardest of content, much to my older brother's chagrin. He always seemed to be a bit bitter on how well I took to school work, and how well I could perform in the social circles as well. The largest of crowds did not phase me, and I loved meeting different members of the circles my parents were a part of. Unique stories never failed to amuse me, and I could make anyone I was chatting with feel important, or wanted, or happy, or better, with just a few well placed comments. In Jin's words, I could mold a conversation to what I wished it to be, like putty in my hands.

That little trait should have been a tip off of what kind of gift I would be _blessed_ with, but we all thought it was just a part of my bubbly personality.

Expectations started to get straining when I turned ten. At this age I was now expected to be the perfect example of what a young Theodosian woman should be. Now I was expected to learn how to host a mirage of different events, perfectly of course, and know how to perform a dance in front of guests with beautiful elegance, while also making sure each and every need was taken care of.

My brothers did not have it much easier. They were expected to learn how to run the family alchemy business, while also discover their gifts as quickly as possible to make them useful for the family need's. Add to that the fact that there was rumblings of war and the threat of takeover from the city from the west, tension was high in the household. To say that these years were stressful was a bit of an understatement. I vividly remember plopping down on one of the numerous pillows in the floor of my childhood home's private living room, sweat just beginning to dry on my tan skin from a strenuous dance lesson, when my two brothers came in looking just as tired. Taking a deep inhale, I remember the smell of burned hair and a bit of sulfur float by.

 _Ihe! Just what were you two up to all afternoon? You smell like one of those boiled eggs after Cook has left it too long._

Jin pushed his glasses back up his nose.

 _That would be correct little sister, because we have been working with a compound that gives off such a similar scent-_

 _Annnnd than it went BOOM! Right in Jin's face! You can even see where his hair is burnt off!_ Little Haon interrupted.

Jin got a little pink around the ears.

 _Only because you decided to add too much-_

Haon's eye's got big.

 _SHUUUUSSS! You arn't supoosed to tell about the secret ingredient!_

I shared a sly grin with Jin, and I remember laughing the afternoon away, jokes about the smells coming off each other flying out among those of other child antics. It was one of the few times I remembered Jin letting loose a bit, and it was one of the last fond memories I had of that childhood mansion.

When I turned thirteen, expectations became suffocating. After years of waiting for their children to manifest their gifts, my parents had to wait no more. One after another, we all became part of a Theodosian tradition that predated our ancestors children.

Surprisingly Haon was the _first._ In the middle of a family dinner that was not to his liking, he suddenly had sparks flying from his tiny hands. They danced off the table, right in front of all our shocked faces. Haon looked down at his palms, questioning if that had really just happened, and flexed his hands into fists, and to his amazement, a pair of twin blazes was called forth! He relaxed his grip, and the blazes faded, while a grin burned bright on his face. Father started his training after that, to make sure Haon was careful with his gift, he did not want random fires springing up around the mansion, while also helping the small child to harness the gift when needed. I particularly loved having him warm up my hands on cold winter days, or a cold cup of tea when needed.

Jin took longer, as per usual, to show just what he was _touched_ with for a gift. I do not believe anyone was shocked when he manifested a gift that matched his detached demeanor. So when random icicles started appearing around the mansion, or when the entire garden fountain had been frozen solid in the heart of summer, Jin was suspect almost immediately. Father merely taught him how to reign in his coldness, and much like with Haon, how to be useful. Jin, never one to shy away from listening to orders, took to his new role as ice prince quite well. He never seemed the same to me after that summer.

As for me, my gift manifestement did not occur that summer, such to the surprise of my parents, for it had already been redeemed, and if the Taoist monk that visited to call forth my gift was correct, I had manifested it _long_ before my siblings.

It turned out, my uncanny ability to make people feel something, or do something, with just a few words was not just a special personality trait, but also my gift. I was elated! Not only had my gift appeared first, take that ice prin _cess_ , but I had been learning how to control it before I even knew what it was!

It was from that summer on that expectations broke me.

My father was not as pleased as I thought he would be in discovering my gift's early arrival. Always one striving for control, he did dabble in alchemy and poisons so it was understandable, he resented the fact that I did not require his input, later what I would deem manipulation, on how to use my gift. The arguments that the two of us could have when trying to _discuss_ how I should use my gift resounded through the mansion's halls.

I believed that this gift was given to me to help a person, to make them believe words that they needed to hear, but he believed my persuasive tongue would be better used to bend people to my will. To suggest and obtain consent for ideas that would further our family's place.

While I understood this philosophy, and tried to adhere to it as best as I could, I never felt quite right persuading a fellow man out of money for my father, I mean _family._

Unlike when I would talk with people at parties, the words that spilled out of my mouth during those meetings coated my throat with an acidic after-taste, and after each one I was left feeling hollow and throat burning with a rawness I could never quite soothe. I was practically stealing from these people, and all my father wanted me to do was repeat the process over and over again.

During my time at business meetings, at the young age of fourteen, my brothers were assisting my father and his alchemic creations with their gifts. Furthering the field of alchemy was easy when you had fire and ice at your finger tips, and I saw such beautiful things be created by the duo that year. Thin blades of glass that only Haon could temper just right, and wonderful boxes filled with never melting ice that Jin created on a dare from father. I could only wonder why I could not create such beauty, and why my gift left such a dirty feeling in my soul.

It came to me during a mediation session, they helped clear away some of the guilt I built up around my _business_ deals. I would never feel the beauty of my gift if I kept using it for personal gain. I was given this quality to help people get what _they_ wanted, or hear what _they_ wanted to hear. This had me sprinting into the mansion to interrupt my parent's morning tea session, and my mother immediately stopped pouring to chastise me for sprinting through the halls.

 _Akemi! You know you are not to run in the halls!_

 _I bobbed my head, while trying to catch my breath._

 _Hai Okasan, but-_

 _And you know you are not to interrupt our morning tea._

My father's words echoed with stern silence.

I bowed my head, with my hands holding delicate lilies just as I was taught to. I did not straighten my posture until I had counted to thirty and heard mother set the teapot back on its tray lightly. Only than did I upright myself and look my father in the eyes.

Waiting to speak, he took a long pull from his steaming mug, before setting it down and slipping his arms into his sleeves. Putting on his business face, he looked back at me, and managed a tiny nod in my direction.

My cue to continue.

I began explaining to him on how I felt when I used my gift on other people, and how it left me hollow and bitter, to which I believed I had found the solution to while in deep meditation. His dark eyebrows seemed to furrow as I continued with my explanation, that the solution to this would be to harness my gift of suggestion to help others, and if by doing so it benefited that family, everyone would be happy and I would no longer suffer from this affliction.

The large dining room filled with another resounding silence. I began to fidget with my kimono sleeves, which he sent a glare in my direction, and I immediately stopped. I remember my mother being focused on the jade tea cup in front of her while we awaited his reaction.

 _Song-_ he started, and she looked up at her husband. _Leave us._

I began to rethink approaching my father about this. He had used his no nonsense business voice, the one he used when reprimanding an assistant about messing up a month's worth of experiments, or the one he used while trying to intimidate a buyer into trying a new product of his.

Carefully, mother got up from her spot kneeling at the table, rose and gave my father a deep bow. She did not spare a glance in my direction as she exited, and I sometimes wonder what I would have seen there.

Maybe pity? Concern?

Or perhaps nothing, that she was as hollow as I, and no longer felt anything towards the daughter she had birthed.

 _Come closer_ my father ordered.

I listened to his command, but with every step my feet seemed to get heavier and heavier, until it felt like I was lifting boulders with each pace.

 _It seems that what you are trying to suggest is that instead of helping your family further themselves in the world, you wish to help others._ I let his words sink in, and I processed how I should continue. Simply deciding to go for it, I nodded.

 _I think-_

I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek, and before I could blink my father resumed his kneeling position at the table.

 _What you think, it does not matter. Do you understand this Akemi?_

I stood, eyes wide, and my hand went to rest upon the swelling mark on my face.

 _Otosan... I... but-_ my words stumbling around like my thoughts.

He cut off my ramblings with a glare, and picked up his chop-sticks, intent on finishing his breakfast.

 _As long as you are a part of this family, what only matters is what you do._ He picked up a piece of rice, his eyes barring into mine, _And what you do is what I will say. It does not matter what you think, and it would be better if you stopped all together._

This rubbed me the wrong way. Was this not the same man who encouraged me to study different country's economic structures, or learn the complex trade system of Theodosia, and the one who valued my opinion on tricky business endeavours? For me to stop thinking would essentially mean that I was just a golden figurehead for him to use and control and twist into his liking. I would never be called a silly little girl, playing in the games of men and business, but I would never be the one controlling my moves. Father would dance me around, and use me to get everyone else in the room to as well. I suddenly became nauseas and unsettled.

Father seemed to recognize my thoughts and he placed his bowl back on the table, and rose.

I took a step back at his approach, but froze at the glare he sent me.

Reaching out, he placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tight.

 _You will do well to remember your place in this family Akemi, or reminders shall be given to you._

I was smart enough to detect a hardly veiled threat at my future cooperation with the family business, but also to find the dismissal, which could not have come sooner.

Not bothering to bow, I turned on my heel and made my way to the doorway to the ornate dining room. That is, until he called out to me.

 _Disrespecting your elders involves thought now doesn't it, perhaps you need further etiquette training instead of gardening lessons._

My heart ached at the _suggestion._

I did not know what I would do without the two hours I had daily with the head gardener, toiling away in the summer sunshine, learning how to properly arrange, care, and maintain the vast amounts of foliage our grounds had.

If he took that away from me... All that was left was being inside and trapped into business meetings and feeling caged with my bitterness swallowing me whole. My decision came fairly quick, but with dread.

It was simply not worth it. Not worth fighting him on this.

His slap still stung, and knowing that he was promising to do worse if I kept meddling and thinking on my own, I knew I had to accept these limitations. _For now._

Schooling my face into a serene mask, I cupped my hands like I was holding yet another delicate lily between them, and turned back to face him. I did not look him in the eyes, for fear of what I might see there, and dropped into a deep bow.

I felt his deep satisfaction at my break, and my heart called for me to turn and flee, while my head screamed to stay where I was. Better to live to fight another day, when I had adequate time to prepare myself.

Footsteps were made walking towards the shoji screen on the opposite side of the room, and I heard the decorative screen slide across the floor, I risked a peek up.

The bastard had left.

I gritted my teeth in irritation, but steeled myself. I would not let him win, I would remain in my position until I was properly dismissed. I would not be the spineless woman I had seen my mother morph into as I grew.

Turns out being spineless would have had its perks.

 _Two hours, and countless floor tiles counted,_ later my older brother walked into the dining room. Like with my father I could feel the smirk he directed at me, and also a new change in Jin, one that I was not going to like.

 _Akemi, father would like to inform you that he believes his message has been made clear._

Crystal as the orbs hanging from the ceiling, pure as the water in the koi pond outside, and as see through as one of Haon's pranks.

I kept these thoughts to myself and ground my teeth to prevent some from slipping out at the superiority in Jin's tone.

 _And he would like me to pass on that you are dismissed, however he wishes that there would be no future lapses in your manners._

I straightened, and threw a glare at my brother, who stood straight, an important look on his face. Rolling my eyes I made to turn away from him, when Jin let out a soft _hmmmhmmm._

Confused I paused and looked at my brother. He tilted his head, raising his chin as he did so, and looked under his glasses and down his nose at me. The universal sign for bowing to a respected individual.

My blood froze. Never before had my siblings and I bowed to each other. I figured we were beyond the old patriarchal ways, and besides everyone knew I was just as smart as the were, and in some cases, better. This seemed to have changed over night, and Jin, probably following orders, was determined to remind me of my place. A place I never thought of being pushed into, a place I did not want to be caged in.

Beginning to sense my reaction, Jin placed his arms in his sleeves, and continued to look down on me, and for a second I believed my father was standing before me. It was a mirror image and before I could stop myself I folded into yet another bow.

My back protested greatly, but followed through with my command, that was until Jin approached me.

I craned my neck up to see his face, but Jin took a hold under my chin and pulled me upright. He stared at the mark on my cheek, and I thought that maybe I would see a glimpse of the compassion that I knew he had, but all that was there was a cold analytic stare. One that told me he was examining how the mark was created, how it could be replicated, and when he should used such force.

Stunned I back away and out of his icy grip, and ran out of the room, scared of what would happen if I remained.

I got to my room before I finally stopped to take a breath, and it was the sound of my fountain and the greeting call of my Betamin that brought me back. That was how my morning was spent, and my guarded opinion was that my future would hold much of the same, and somehow bettering the family was not a good enough reason for me to live life like this.

That summer may have been the one to break me, but it also was the one that started to forge me into the woman I would become.


End file.
